


User Error

by Poison_Love_Words



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Bad Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Creeper Peter Hale, Derek Hale & Kira Yukimura Friendship, Derek Hale Needs To Use His Words, Good Peter Hale, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Naked Cuddling, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Online Relationship, Peter Hale Ships Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Platonic Cuddling, Sassy Derek Hale, Sassy Stiles Stilinski, Stiles & Peter are the worst, Top Derek, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Top Stiles Stilinski, Versatile Derek Hale, Versatile Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Versatile Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-02-09 13:23:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poison_Love_Words/pseuds/Poison_Love_Words
Summary: Given enough coffee and a few flirty texts from Mr.Bookish, Stiles could rule the world from his basement office at Triple S. That is until the day his best friend stabs him in the back for a pretty face and the (false) promise of fame and fortune.Based on the Prompt:Omega Stiles is the real brain behind the up and coming tech company but Scott the public “face” starts to believe his own press and falls in with his new girlfriends bigoted family. He lets them talk him into kicking Stiles out of the company. And then Stiles gets revenge by going to work for the Hales.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LorBSleepy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LorBSleepy/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very late fic for the wonderful LorBSleepy. Really hope you like it!! 
> 
> Please forgive my mistakes! I edit my own work.
> 
> MINOR EDIT 17 NOVEMBER 2019

**Mr.Bookish [08:47]: Stop avoiding your work :p**

The message flashes on the left computer screen as Stiles returns to his office. It brings an immediate smile to his face as he plops back into his chair. He was in the middle of rewriting some code to improve the anti-virus and having an epic debate with Mr.Bookish (aka Stiles’ internet dreamboat, love crush, mental stud-muffin, the future Mr. Stilinski-Bookish, or Derek as he is known in the real world) when the call of caffeine became overwhelming. So, a quick trip to the employee lounge had been in order, the one on the second floor so he could get the good coffee Lydia brews. It was to be a quick trip, he didn’t want to get caught by Lydia after all. 

He had raced up the stairs and managed to pour a small (read: half-liter) portion of coffee into his thermos when he was detoured by Chris. It wasn’t his fault Chris needed help picking out a birthday gift for his brat of a daughter. Stiles still thinks that Allison is secretly an alien and Chris just never found the pod in the basement. As down to Earth and funny as Chris is, his daughter is just as bland and mean-spirited. Hell, Chris ended up deciding on a card with a ‘you have a $50 limit’ written in it for her gift. Since Allison apparently exchanges everything for cash anyway. Stiles figures he’ll pick her up the cheapest bottle of wine he can find and a card with something fluffy and cute on it. Really, he wouldn’t even bother with a gift if Scott hadn’t been harping on him for days about how rude Stiles is to his soon to be fiancé. 

In a way, it is excellent that Stiles ran into Chris. For one, he figured out what to get Allison that would really piss her off but wouldn’t upset Scott; and for two he learned about Chris’ decision to leave Triple S for a position at Hale Bytes. Stiles wasn’t sure how he felt about Chris leaving the company Stiles had personally created from nothing. Chris had been one of the first employees hired and over the past three years had become one of Stiles’ closest work friends. Oh hell, who was Stiles kidding, Chris was a friend period. If it wasn’t for him and Lydia Stiles would never leave his basement haven during working hours. 

Sure, he could always bug Scott up on the third floor, but since Triple S had been the focus of a very prominent blog, Scott didn’t seem to have the time for anyone, except Allison. Now, Stiles hears from Chris there is a proposed merger with Argent Logistics. A merger isn’t something Stiles wants for his company. He liked how his company is smaller and mainly focused on cybersecurity. Not only does he not support the merger, but he hasn’t even been informed about it. As the creator and brainchild behind Triple S, Stiles should be involved with all business dealings. He chews on his lip as he pulls up Argent Logistics’ company web page. 

Stiles may have been the one to make Triple S, but he wasn’t the face of the company. That honor went to Scott, the ‘True Alpha.’ Stiles rolls his eyes as he glances over the Argent Bio page, all alphas. He snorts as he reads how they are an _equal opportunity employer_ , only if you are an alpha he adds silently. There has been a lot of progress in terms of omega and beta rights, but there are still many alphas who think only alphas are worth anything. Sadly, it is one of the reasons Stiles lets Scott pretend to be the company founder.  


Honestly, there isn’t that much difference between alphas, betas, and omegas. There are a few biological differences, but recent discoveries have shown these differences are not so black and white. It had always been assumed that alphas went into rut and a need to mate and breed consumes them. Omegas would go into heat and have a desire to be penetrated and dominated. That left betas, who experienced neither, but could both become pregnant and impregnate another beta. Of course, it wasn’t until recently that all these supposed facts were found to be false. 

Apparently, all three dynamics have the potential for both forms of reproduction. It was more like a sliding scale of desires, your sex, and minor chemical differences which resulted in your dynamic. Too bad the majority of the world couldn’t seem to grasp this concept and held onto erroneous beliefs. Unfortunately, these antiquated beliefs are the reason omegas tend to lack respect and social standings. For as much as society claims it is unbiased, it is incredibly biased. Omegas are last picked, rarely thought of for leadership roles, and mostly viewed as caretakers, teachers, and babysitters.

Not wanting to deal with the publicity associated with an Omega who (very) successfully started a new tech company, Stiles and Scott decided it would be best if an alpha appeared to be the head. Stiles much preferred to stay in the shadows and work on his ideas and projects. He was content to let Scott run the company. They had the same vision after all, or so he thought. 

A ping sounds and pulls Stiles from his spiraling thoughts. He smiles broadly as his text box with Derek pops up again.

**Mr.Bookish [09:07]: Crap, she finally catch you?**

**[09:08] I can’t come rescue you till after the budget meeting. So I hope you can refrain from annoying her too much.**

**[09:08] who am I kidding that’s like asking you not to breathe ;)**

Stiles’ worries are pushed to the back of his mind as he snorts at Derek’s messages. For someone who constantly claims their siblings call him antisocial and too awkward to be allowed in public, he is incredibly witty and charming.

**Mischief_Unmanaged [09:08]: I’ll have you know I am a fucking joy to be around. JOY. Like you’ll weep from all the happiness and joy you’ll get from being in my presence. Pure JOY**

Stiles clicks through some more of the Argent’s website as he waits from Derek’s reply. Although, his thoughts quickly turn to the other man. He’s been communicating with Mr.Bookish, in one form or another, for close to a year now. They met on a forum, Atypical Dynamics, a safe place for anyone who felt they were more than their dynamic. Stiles happened onto it by chance. He’d been feeling lethargic about his love-life, or lack thereof. When he began to question his dynamic. 

It started with his last boyfriend, Evan, a gorgeous yet stereotypical alpha. They’d been together close to a month when Stiles’ yearly heat hit. It was the worst heat of his life. Evan had assumed Stiles wanted him there for his heat and showed up the day of with chocolate, vitamin water, and protein shakes. He barged in Stiles’ apartment spouting out ‘fear not, I’m here to give you my knot’. 

Stiles about slammed the door in the guy’s face. First off, maybe if Evan had asked or even talked to Stiles about his heat, Stiles would have been agreeable to him visiting toward the end of it. Secondly, Stiles hated the assumption he didn’t have provisions of his own. Finally, he was enraged that despite their prior discussions about preferences and bedroom desires, Evan presumed Stiles would only want to bottom during his heat. 

It wasn’t that Stiles was opposed to bottoming; he was quite versatile actually. The truth was he needed to feel a certain level of trust and attraction to consider having sex with a person. He craved more than a brief fling before engaging in any physical relationship, and he wasn’t at that point in his affiliation with Evan. Which they had discussed! Furthermore, Evan had said he understood and respected Stiles’ needs. Apparently, he just didn’t think those needs were the same during Stile’s heat. Needless to say, that was the end of their association. 

Despite all of that, Stiles truly loves being an omega. He loves the freedom from expectations, he loves the attention of alphas, and he loves the easy acceptance of betas. There are many things he loves about being an omega, but there are also many things he hates. He hates how alphas don’t take him seriously, he hates how everyone assumes he wants to birth pups (or even want pups), and Stiles hates how everyone assumes he goes dumb with desire when he’s in heat. He does become more tactile and a lot hornier when in heat, but that didn’t mean he become some mindless sex-beast.

He also didn’t understand the notion that alphas are macho brutes, especially when nearly 65% of alphas are female. Scotty is an alpha, and he was one of the nicest albeit hopeless alphas Stiles knows. Outside of his growing relationship with Derek, Scott is the only alpha Stiles trusts. 

It’s why Stiles lets Scott act the head and public face of Triple S. He was glad to be able to offer Scott the job after he flunked out of veterinary school. It was almost like old times again. Then Allison came back into the picture, and suddenly Stiles is back to a rainy-day friend. He exits out of the Argent webpage and pulls up his chat box with Derek. 

Derek is unlike any alpha Stiles has ever met. He’s got a quick wit and brilliant mind that has Stiles enthralled. Derek doesn’t buy into dynamic norms and is a proponent of the single dynamic theory. Outside of that, he is an epic nerd, snarky asshole, an avid reader. Stiles even tried to download the forum to his phone just so he could chat longer. Unfortunately, it in its beta testing and crashes all the time. Now, he’s been trying to find a non-creepy way to get Derek’s number. 

He never signed up for the forum expecting to meet someone. He wanted to talk to like-minded individuals. Too bad his first experience was an argument with some troll. It started out as a discussion on gender and dynamic expectations. Somehow the conversation turned to childcare and Stiles made the comment he would be very content to never have to deal with the stress of childcare. Some alpha called him out on it, calling him a bitter, barren bitch. 

Stiles almost deleted his account. Then another user joined in and told the troll not to be jealous, right before he got the troll blocked. Stiles ended up sending a private chat to Mr.Bookish. Wanted to send a quick thank you. That turned into a three-hour conversation that only ended because Mr.Bookish had a real-world obligation he couldn’t avoid.  


**Mr.Bookish [09:09]: I just pulled a muscle in my eye from that eye-roll inducing lie.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged [09:09]: Rude!**

**Mischief_Unmanaged [09:09]: Here I was going to give you my number to get you through that meeting.**

**Mr.Bookish [09:10]: so you can avoid your work from every floor of your office? :p. it does save me from trying to ask for yours.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged [09:10]: Aww look at the awkward social outcast using ancient emojis to try and give voice to his one emotion.**

**Mr.Bookish [09:11]: I’m beginning to feel another one. -_- No wait that’s just my usual level of frustration associated with you ;)**

**Mischief_Unmanaged [09:11]: Now who’s avoiding work? Shouldn’t you be out playing the part of stoic alpha at some meeting?**

**Mr.Bookish [09:12]: yeah, don’t remind me. Thought Laura would be able to make back in time for it but looks like I get to go. Here: (876) 543-1298. Hope you have some (im)moral support to offer.**

Stiles watches as the text box on his screen darkens as Mr.Bookish signs off. He lets out a loud ‘whoop’ and lunges out of his chair to dance around the room as he adds the number to his contacts. A chime sounds on his computer signaling he has a new email in his company account. 

Stiles drops back into his chair with a grin still plastered on his face. A smile that quickly vanishes as he reads the subject of the new email, an email sent to the entire company.

**Time to Celebrate!! Merger with Argent Logistics is a Success!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is very much appreciated! 
> 
> Lor if you see this let me know if you want me to change anything.
> 
> Comments and Kudos feed the muse. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can Scott sign off on a merger when he doesn't own Triple S?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading this. You rock my socks off. :)  
> Please forgive my mistakes.

Stiles isn't sure if he's annoyed or angry that Scott apparently made such a drastic change to the company without conferring with him first. He stares at the email subject for a long moment. His thoughts spiral for a while. Part of him hopes that the email was sent as a poor attempt at a joke. The other part of him is confused at how Scott managed a merger without Stiles involvement. For all appearance, Stiles was still the owner/founder of Triple S. 

Clicking open the email does nothing to ease his worry. In fact, Stiles is livid after reading the brief message. 

**Dear Triple S Employees,  
** **After weeks of negotiations, Argent Logistics has agreed to a merger with Triple S. Over the past few years Triple S has made a name in the field of cybersecurity. Now it is time we branch out and diversify. Recently with the extra publicity and customer demands, it has come to my attention we lack the resources to successfully expand. Which is why it gives me great pleasure to announce this merger. Argent Logistics has the manpower to pull Triple S out of the slow lane.  
** **As such, I'd like to welcome you to the Argent S. Logistic family. Beginning next week, we will be taking stake of our current resources and changes will be made as necessary. Please clear your calendars for a proper welcoming for our new department heads: Allison Argent - CFO, Gerard Argent - Personal Director, and Kate Argent - Director of Technology this Friday from 4-6 pm. Light refreshments will be served and hold all questions until then. Welcome to our next step.**  
**Sincerely,**  
**Scott McCall**  
**Chairman of the Board, CEO, and President**  
**Triple S**

"What in the ever-fucking loving hell?!" Stiles sputters at the blatant disrespect for Triple S's mission statement, its employees, and Stiles position with the company. 

"Well, that answers my question about if you are involved in this stupidity," Lydia snarks from his door. "You are entirely too smart to dig a grave with the Argents." She looks to her side at Chris as they both enter Stiles' office. 

Stiles snorts and turns around as his friends setting into his sofa. Lydia looking poised and regal as she curls her legs under her on one end. Chris sits back with a sigh on the other end. They both look at him with matching looks of resignation. 

"I'm sure this is just some miss understanding," Stiles picks at a thread of his plaid sleeve. He turns to Chris with a weary sigh, "Scott has heard all the horror stories about your father and sister. He's probably offering Allison a position and as a birthday gift is giving the others an honorary title and pseudo position here." Stiles begins to pace as he warms to his theory, "How else can he say there is a merger without my agreement?" Stiles misses the look Lydia and Chris exchange as he paces by them.

"Stiles honey, I know you've been friends with Scott since you were toddlers eating dirt," Lydia gracefully stands up and stops Stiles' wandering with gentle hands on his shoulder, "but have you really been around him recently?" She arches one perfectly plucked brow; Stiles moves to nibble on a thumb. 

"Yeah, sure. We hang out … "Stiles trails off as he pauses to think. He snaps his fingers with a smile, "We hang out at the office all the time. I was up there just yesterday discussing a new code."

"Sweetie you don't need me telling you that a work-visit does not equate to a friendship. Unless you want to claim friendship with Greenberg." Lydia gives him an almost sad smile as Stiles' face drops.

"Oh, come on Lydia," Stiles moves away from her, "we've just been busy. He has work and Allison's birthday party to plan. Not to mention all those interviews." 

"Stiles, what about his new quest to join the All Alpha First and Last movement." Chris joins the pair. He levels a look at Stiles with folded arms.

"Wait what?!" Stiles gapes at the man for a moment. He then lets out a loud almost manic laugh. Doubling over he wheezes out, "Oh man Chris, you had me going there. Scott would never join those elitist asses."

The room goes deadly silent. Chris and Lydia have a heated albeit muted conversation as Stiles settles his breathing with a groan. The pair know that Stiles is aware of Scott's status as a 'True Alpha'; that is a person who was identified at birth as an Alpha. Compared to most people who are identified during puberty. They are unsure if Stiles has been privy to Scott's change of social circle, or the gossip surrounding his embrace of the Alpha first culture. Chris glares at Lydia as she nods toward Stiles. He rolls his eyes and places a hand on the back of Stiles' neck.

"Listen, I know you aren't one to get entangled in company gossip, but you should know that people are unhappy with how Scott talks about Betas and Omegas." Chris only holds up a finger as Stiles looks ready to argue, "Do you honestly believe I'd leave Triple S if it weren't absolutely necessary? I grew up as the only Beta in an Alpha house, I'm not going to stay here to let that happen again." Chris pulls out a business card and hands it to Stiles, "Hale Bytes is a dynamic free tech company, family run by two Alphas and an Omega. I'm sure they'd be ecstatic for you to join."

Stiles glances down at the card. It has the company name followed by L. Hale -founder, CEO, and Web Design, D. Hale – Finances and Programming, and P. Hale – Legal and Miscellaneous. At the bottom is an address and number with a picture of a triskelion in the corner. 

Stiles shoves the card in his pocket with an angry huff, "I won't let that happen!" Stiles runs a hand through his hair, “Triple S **_is_** a dynamic free workspace. I won't let some Alpha only club ruin that." 

"I think it's too late," Chris tells Stiles quietly, "Allison was in too good of a mood when I saw her just now. She mentioned getting lunch with Kate, which is never good for anyone else." 

Stiles almost growls in annoyance. He just can believe his best friend would not only sell out their company but is accused of All Alpha behavior, that just doesn't make any sense. Scott may be an Alpha, but he's never made it a big deal. He'd always treated everyone equally; he was best friends with an Omega after all. 

"I know if I just go talk to him, this will all be cleared up," Stiles spins around with a forced smile, "I'll just head up and talk to Scott. You'll see, he's just humoring them for Allison. He's probably acting the part of 'True Alpha,' and the Argents think he's one of them. I'll be back before you know it with the truth, then we can all laugh over this later." Stiles gives them a firm nod as he heads out the door.

Chris and Lydia sigh as they settle back down on the sofa.

Lydia leans her head back, "Have any more of those Hale Byte cards? I think a career move is in my best interest."

Chris looks over at the younger Beta, "They did mention they were looking for new web designers. I may have dropped your name." He holds out another card, "Their CEO seemed quite enamored with your work." 

"Of course, she did," Lydia sniffs but has a light blush staining her cheeks, "anyone with good taste can see I only produce excellence." She tucks the card into the inner pocket of her blazer. "Although, I have checked out her work, and I must say it is exceptional." 

Chris rolls his head in her direction with an arched brow, "Careful there, I can see your crush from over here."

Lydia doesn't dignify that with a response. Well, other than an arched brow of her own followed by a pillow to his face.

**Stiles[09:17]: Good morning sir. I have been informed you are in need of immoral support during this time of social interaction. I can offer you such support in exchange for reciprocal support to be collected at a future date and time.**

Stiles fiddles with his phone as he waits for the elevator. Typically, he'd walk (run) up to Scott's office, but he needs some time to compose himself. He's pretending to wait patiently for a text back from Derek. He knows the other man is in some meeting and probably can't text, but Stiles can still wish for a quick response. He wants to rant and rave about this whole merger business but is also afraid to talk to Derek about it. 

They've never openly discussed who they are, but it wasn't like either of them is making any real attempts at hiding their identity. It still scared Stiles to let Derek precisely who he is in the real world. Sure, Derek knows Stiles is an Omega and works with computers, but he doesn't know Stiles is the founder of Triple S. Then again Stiles knows about the same of Derek; he is an Alpha who also works with computers but would much rather work with books. 

Honestly, Stiles is more afraid that despite knowing Derek for a year, once Derek sees Stiles, he'll realize he can do so much better. How Derek is still single Stiles does know. Okay, maybe Derek really is as socially awkward as he claims; and perhaps he indeed does have murder face. None of that matters to Stiles, Derek is the best thing in his life, and Stiles needs to find a way to keep him.

**Derek[09:23]: I just had to fake a coughing fit to hide my laughter. You suck.**

**Derek[09:23]: these terms are acceptable.**

**Stiles[09:24]: awesome! Now what are you wearing …**

Stiles snickers to himself as he types out his message. The doors to the elevator open and Stiles is greeted with a dark look and deep scowl. Gerard Argent sets out of the lift with a sneer, looking much grumpier than his company picture, "I see we will need to update the dress code. Appalling what McCall lets his employees wear." He gives one last withering look to Stiles' _"I'm not goofing off. My code is compiling."_ shift before stalking off. 

Stiles shouts after him, "You try coding in a three-piece suit!" He snorts as Gerard twist back around just in time for the doors to shut on him. It's the small things in life. 

Stiles pulls out his phone again and smiles as he sees Derek texted back, he is so screwed.

**Derek[09:25]: blue suit, white shirt, black shoes.**

Stiles tries fires off a quick reply as the lift gets to Scott's floor.

**Stiles[09:25]: your ineptitude is showing. Just know I am picturing a baby blue suit with a ruffled shirt. also no underthings? how uncomfortable!**  


By the time Stiles steps into the reception area the smile on his face is real. It doesn't last as he listens to the laughter and the low murmur of voices coming from the main office. A feeling of trepidation fills him as a shrill female voice exclaims, "Of course she did it wrong! A Beta doesn't have the right disposition for running payroll. Our accountant is perfectly capable and can handle a few extra employee accounts. Next!" 

Stiles does bother with knocking as he barges into the office. He feels anger replace his worry as he takes in the scene before him. Scott lounges behind his desk with a flute of champagne. Allison is perched on his lap with a pad of paper in her hands. They are both laughing as Allison crosses something off on her pad of paper with a flourish. At the table near the door is Kate Argent. She has her feet up on the table with a laptop opened to the company server on her thighs, a restricted access company server. She seems to be reading off employee files to the other two. In front of Kate is a brunch feast, enough for the entire company. A feast no one had been invited to, except the Argents. 

Stiles seethes at the misuse of company funds and the disregard for privet employee information. He stops just inside the door as the room goes quiet.

"Oh, this must be your little Omega friend," Kate glances at Stiles before turning her attention to Scott with a laugh, "I didn't realize you'd invited him to the _Executive Only_ celebration." 

Okay, whoa. Stiles is far from little; he has a good three inches on Scott. He narrows his eyes at Kate, her picture didn't do her justice. Then again it is hard to capture psycho-bitch on a still frame. Her eyes are hard, and malice lurks right under the surface. Stiles feels his stomach twist from just being near her. 

Scott gives Stiles a pleading look before his face closes off, "I hadn't. Stiles do you need something? I do not have time for your juvenile attempts at friendship. As you can see, we are quite busy with restructuring the mess that Triple S has gotten itself into."

Stiles gapes at his former best friend. Say what?! He feels Kate's cold stare on him and schools his features, "Why yes Scott. I am here to determine what it is you think you are doing with my company." 

Laughter rings out all around him. He feels his face heat up as they all give him looks of disgust mingled with pity. It's a look he is familiar with, it's the look many Alphas give Betas and especially Omegas when they think the _lesser_ dynamics have overstepped their place. 

"Your company?! Oh, you poor little Omega, just because you wrote a few lines of code for Triple S doesn't make it yours." Kate's voice is syrupy as she gives him a mocking frown, her eyes twinkle with glee. 

"No bitch, the fact that I founded the company and hired Scott for public relations makes it mine," Stiles fumes, "Not to mentation the fact that my name is on all the official documents." He crosses his arms with a smug look at the group. 

The group continues to chuckle. Allison clears her throat as she stands up, "I'm afraid you are only partially right." Her smile is venomous as she pulls out a file folder. 

"Excuse you? I think you've been misled here," Stiles glares at Scott as he enters the room to plop down on one of the chairs next to Kate.

"Scott is only CEO and president in the eyes of the public. He agreed to be the 'face' of Triple S, so we didn't have to deal with any Omega haters." Stiles gives the group a bright smile, and he claps his hands together once, "Sadly, that means this merger is illegal and will have to be renegotiated with me." 

Allison only shakes her head in disagreement, "Again, you are partly right. You may have been the initial owner of Triple S, but that ownership was relinquished to Alpha McCall the moment you admitted to difficulties associated with your Omega status." 

Allison drops the stack of papers in front of Stiles, "See here," She points to a highlighted paragraph in what appears to be a photocopied court record, "as established with Posey v. O'Brien (1811): _any Omega property owner who enlists the aid of an Alpha to compensate for their Omega deficits forfeits the rights and ownership of said property if the Alpha is not compensated and removed from the burden of supporting the Omega within one year._ "

Stiles stares at the paper in front of him. His vision tunnels as he reads over the case. There it is in black, white, and yellow he's lost ownership of his own company because of some outdated law. The worst part is, he can't fight it. That is unless he wants to spend a few years in jail for Omega rebellion of established norms. He looks back up and sees Scott observing at him his puppy eyes filled with pity. 

Stiles feels that anger return and shoves his chair back, "This is bullshit! This case is over a hundred years old," Stiles marches over to Scott. "Seriously dude, you're going to go along with this farce?" 

"Stiles," Scott uses his skittish animal voice, "you and I both know you didn't want the worry of running this company. Why are you pretending to want involvement when really all you want is to be left alone to code?" Scott gives him a light pat on the shoulder, "Why not go back to that now? Let the Alphas take care of all the mess business dealings." 

Scott's hand on his shoulder grips him, and Stiles finds himself being guided out of the office. High, shrieking laughter follows him out as Scott hits the button for the elevator. Stiles pulls his shoulder out of Scott's hold and faces his once best friend.

"I can't believe you'd stoop so low, and for what some Alpha pussy?!" Stiles practically screams in Scott's face, "Why to honor almost twenty years of friendship."

Scott has the kicked puppy look on his face as Stiles enters the elevator, "Really Stiles, this is how you are going to repay me for all my hard work and tireless efforts of keeping this failing company afloat?" 

Stiles feels his eyes practically roll back into his head at Scott's defective recollection of reality, "Holy fucking shit! You believe that fucking messiah Alpha bull." 

Scott purses his lips and glares at Stiles, "Watch it Omega, wouldn't want to find yourself completely removed of all Triple S property." 

Stiles can only stare at Scott as the doors slowly close. The Alpha's parting words hang heavy in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically Scott is a dick. The End. 
> 
> Kidding!! 
> 
> I hope that all made sense, my knowledge about company acquisition is limited, but I tried to make up for it with this world's dynamics. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, please and thank you :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me way too long to write. Had a hell of a time getting the right combo or wounded/cocky/playful for Derek that I was looking for. In the end, I figured I'll post it and hope for the best. 
> 
> On the bright side, my muse has officially returned and it is summer vacation! So look for more regular updates!! 
> 
> As always I edit my own work so please let me know if there are any glaring errors. 
> 
> Thanks and enjoy!

"… and with this outcome in mind, it is completely plausible for us to …"

Staring down at his phone, Derek reads over the message he's been agonizing over since an utterly absurd idea popped into his head, meeting Stiles in person. 

**Derek[09:35]: Why don't you get something besides coffee and Reese's with me tonight? That way you can be critical of my outfit in person.**

In a moment of boldness (i.e., stupidity), Derek hits send on the message before he could talk himself out of it. First, he gives the other man his personal number; now, he is asking him out to dinner all while seeming to be a functional Alpha. Too bad once he gets in the same room as Stiles his social anxiety will ruin his carefully crafted online persona. It's not that Derek isn't opposed to meet Stiles in person, oh no, he's been enamored with the other man for months. He's tired to work up the nerve to ask to meet or at least get his number for the past few months. It's more that Derek doesn't want this relationship to end, which it will, once Stiles sees what a disaster Derek is in person. Written words have always come easy to him, it's how he has four bestsellers under a nom de plume, but those same words catch in his throat when he tries to talk in person. 

"… looking at our growth over that last three months it's easy …"

Derek tunes out Kira's analysis of their latest sale figures. He might have the title of Hale Byte's financial advisor, but it was all for show. His ability to work with numbers stops at acknowledging his online checking account balance. Laura thinks it is more prestige for him to have the title of finance coordinator rather than try and explain what he actually does. Which is mainly alpha protection or 'stand around and look scary' as Laura often tells him. 

Mostly he hides out in his office. People at the office tend to avoid him. Which is okay with him, it gives him plenty of time to look into obscure facts for his next novel and talk to Stiles. Laura only really needs him when she overbooks her schedule. Then he has the joy of playing boss in her stead or the grumpy Alpha as Peter calls him. Most of the time, Derek doesn't mind his job. He has plenty of freedom to read and write while also supporting Laura's dream. Besides it's the least he can do, he owes it to her and Peter. 

Currently, he should be following along to Kira's projected sales and other numbers and money related things, but he is too distracted to be playing CEO. He'll feel guilty later for not giving Kira the proper attention to all her hard work, but for now, he has a crisis to deal with; Stiles is going to delete his number and block him on Atypical. Derek glances down at his darkened screen, again. He's only mildly freaking out over the text, that Stiles has yet to respond. It's not like Stiles hasn't taken more than a minute to reply before, it's just that Derek probably pushed too hard too soon, and completely scared the other man off. Sure, Stiles seems to flirt with him, although it could just be friendly banter. Derek knows he isn't anyone's ideal Alpha, especially an omega as charming, funny, and intelligent as Stiles. He shouldn't have asked Stiles out; he's probably not even interested in dating an Alpha. 

A crumpled-up paper hits him in the face. Derek heaves out a silent sigh and glances up in time to see Peter's eyes riveted to Kira. A look of utter innocents on his face. Not fooled for a second, he pretends to scratch at his ear, with his middle finger. Peter's façade slips for a moment as he flashes bright blue amused eyes. A quick look around the table, Derek sees all eyes are on Kira's presentation as he reaches under his chair for the paper and smooths it out.

**Stare at your phone any harder, and it's going to break.**

Derek has to hide his snort with a cough. Something he seems to be doing a lot this morning. A few eyebrows arch as everyone at the table looks in his direction, and he feels his cheeks heat. He quickly grabs his water glass with a mumbled 'dry throat.' He glowers across the table as Peter silently laughs. Derek swallows a growl as he flashes his eyes at Peter, who unsurprisingly rolls his eyes before wiggling his eyebrows as he flicks another ball of paper at Derek.

Derek catches this one before it hits him and opens it with a scowl. 

**Stiles will of course agree. Stop your brooding. You're not a vampire with a soul.**

Derek can only glare at his uncle; there are too many witnesses for retaliation. If the note isn't bad enough, Peter's response to the scowl directed his way is to make a few obscene hand gestures, complete with creeper smirk. Derek almost snarls aloud as he jots down a message of his own. 

**Funny, forgot you were a teenage girl.**

He rips out the page, crumples it, and hurls it across the table. He huffs out a curse as Peter catches the small projectile while outwardly paying attention to the presentation.  
He glances at the head of the room where Kira is enthusiastically sharing a chart with a bunch of lines and dots. How she can be so excited about numbers, Derek doesn't understand but is very grateful for her anyway. Kira is one of three people outside of his family who completely ignores his gruff exterior. She likens him to a burnt marshmallow; he can look scary at times but is really a sweet pile of goo once you get past his outer layer. 

The sound of paper ripping has Derek staring back at his uncle. Peter gives him a cheeky grin as he tears the paper again. Derek grabs his pen in a tight fist. He's not going to let Peter win this one. 

A soft 'a-hem' next to him has Derek glancing to his right. Boyd sits next to him with a small frown. He jerks his head to the front of the room with a pointed look at Derek. Derek feels his face flush as he sinks into his chair. Boyd gives him an approving nod before turning back to Kira. Peter quietly chuckles, writing something down he leers back at Derek from across the table. Thankfully the lights turn back on before Peter can throw his latest scathing remarks. 

"It will be interesting to see next period's numbers once all our new hires are acclimated as well as having the patch completed for Were-net. Any questions?" Kira asks the room with a bright smile. 

After a few awkward minutes of silence pass, then just as Kira opens her mouth to speak, Derek's phone buzzes loudly. It moves across the table as it continues to buzz. He grabs it, expecting a phone call from Laura; instead, he has a string of texts from Stiles. Nine to be exact. 

Smothering the desire to check the messages at that movement, he looks back at Kira, "Apologies Ms. Yukimura." He stammers out. Kira narrows her eyes at him with a calculating look before giving him a knowing smile and a quick wink. Then with entirely too much cheer she thanks everyone for attending while reminding them to send in their monthly supply's checklist and employee compensations sheets. There is a murmur of agreement and a few groans from the table. Kira ignores it all as she concludes with more 'thank you's. The table seems to stand as one as she gives her usual little bow to the standard smattering of applause. Derek watches with some amusement as his co-workers attempt to exit as quickly as possible without looking like they are fleeing in terror. No one wants to be the last one in the room filled with department heads, and the grumpy Alpha.

Boyd turns to Derek with a bemused look and a shake of his head, "New record. You are so screwed if anyone ever finds out you only scowl to cover your social anxiety." 

"Huh, I think that's a new record for you," Derek gives a feral grin as he cleans up his papers and laptop, eager to get to his office so he can read over the messages, "most words spoken at one time." 

Boyd snorts as he stands up, "Be thankful you're related to the boss." 

Derek looks up at the Omega with a raised eyebrow, "Why? Think you can take me?"

"No, I'd send Erica after you," Boyd says with complete sincerity as he joins a laughing Kira.

"He has you there marshmallow wolf; Erica will make you cry for hurting her Omega's feelings." Kira nudges Boyd with a hip as he bows his head with a shy smile, "speaking of Omegas, I do hope it was Stiles you were texting during my oh so important budget meeting." Kira smiles sweetly at Derek for a moment before turning to Peter with a hard look, "I will sear your balls off with my dullest sword if you interrupt one of my meetings again with your childish antics." 

Peter plasters a wolfish smile on his face as he drawls, "Darling, your foreplay always gets me all tingly," he ducks as she throws Derek's notepad at him, "I'd gladly take you up on the offer if you are willing to bring along that sweet little morsel you are hiding from us." 

Kira's face colors as she busies herself with packing up, "I haven't a clue as to what you are implying." 

Derek and Boyd share a look, but both wisely refrain from joining Peter in his grave. 

"Oh please, we all know you told Erica to talk Derek into joining Atypical," Peter leans back in his chair, "how could you not want him to join such a welcoming forum knowing his," at this Peter's words trail off as he peers at Derek with a look he can not decipher, "lack of social graces." He finishes in a quieter voice. 

The mood in the room shifts, and everyone seems at a loss for what to say. Derek can feel his ears burning at everything Peter left unsaid. It's not like everyone in the room doesn't already know what Peter was going to say.

"Peter, as much fun as it would be to stay here and trade barbs all day, some of us have work," She walks around the table, picks up the fallen notepad, and smacks Peter on the back of the head, "Try and pretend to be a responsible, caring individual and keep Derek from freaking out too much."

"I'm not freaking out," Derek huffs out.

Kira rolls her eyes at him, "Riiiiight, you are the picture of calm as you constantly check your phone," She grabs Boyd's arm, "Come on handsome, let's go plan our lunch order before our next interview." 

The two of them squeeze Derek's arm as they pass him. He would roll his eyes if he didn't feel so grateful for their support. 

"Really, Peter?" Derek whirls on his uncle the moment Boyd and Kira clear the door, "throwing paper in the middle of a budget meeting? It's not like I didn't have my phone right in my hand." Derek holds up his phone for emphasis. 

Peter lets out a bark of laughter, "And watch you die of heartache when you realize it is not Stiles texting you?" He shoves all his papers and laptop into his shoulder bag as they walk out of the conference room, "even I am not that insensitive. Besides, it looked like you needed some sense knocked into you."

Derek grumbles in reply as he follows Peter to the Omega's office, "You are incorrigible, remind me to never share personal information with you ever again." Derek drops into one of the unbelievably comfortable leather chairs by Peter's desk. 

"Just wait till I tell Laura you finally asked out the love of your life," Derek's head whips up at Peter's words. He expects to find a smirk or a similar look of amused mischief, but all he sees is pride and contentment. 

Despite all their banter and the grief they give each other, they are family. Derek knows Peter only wants him happy. His uncle has done everything in his power to make sure Derek, and Laura, had everything they needed once he was appointed the guardian of Derek. A tightness takes hold of him as he thinks back to all those years ago and the mistakes that had cost him so much. 

"None of that," Peter tells him quietly. The tightness loosens in his chest as Peter pats his arm. 

"Where is your pod so I can find my Uncle Peter?" Derek tries to joke, both men ignore the roughness of his voice.

Peter snorts and plops into the chair next to Derek, "The same place you left your sunny disposition," Peter stretches and sighs as Derek grumbles. 

They sit in quiet for a few moments. Peter watches his nephew as the younger wolf makes aborted attempts to check his phone. Taking a deep breath, Peter swallows the teasing he wants to unleash. When it comes to Derek, Peter knows there is a fine line between provoking him into doing something and pushing him into shut down mode. He's getting dangerously close to crossing that line as he's goaded and jokingly cajoled Derek into acting on his feelings. 

Peter would like nothing more than to whop him upside the head. No, he'd like nothing more than to beat his sister and that Argent bitch upside the head. Between Talia's _Grade A_ parenting and Argent bitch's gaslighting it's no wonder Derek has severe social anxiety and no self-worth. Letting Talia talk him into leaving Derek without his or Laura's support is something he will regret until his dying day. Peter once again curses his sister for her Alpha proclamation that Peter could not seek out Argent for vengeance. He was not to interfere in the business of Alphas. He rolls his eyes, fucking Alphas. Good thing he has Derek and Laura out of her reach. Now, to get Derek to stop his self-sacrificing nonsense and get laid. 

Feeling that enough time has passed, and Derek isn't as tense he finally speaks up, "Okay cub, what's the verdict."

Derek pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket with a heavy sigh and stares at the screen. Pressing the power button, it lights up with a **10 New Messages** box. Derek frowns and places the phone face down on his thigh.

Peter watches with a frown, "Are you really going to make me have a serious talk with you?" His voice is quiet with a complete lack of his usual sass or arrogance.

Derek stands up with a growl, "I'm not making you do anything. I'd never do that." He stalks over to the window, his whole-body tense again. 

"Derek," Peter begins in what they all know to be his parental (i.e., fucking listen to me idiot) voice, "I'm not going to lecture you on how you are acting like an idiot for thinking you are anything less than worthy or anything," Peter flicks the Alpha's ear as the younger man opens his mouth to protest, "shut it, this is my one paternal lecture of the year, don't ruin it for me." 

"Fine," Derek all but growls at him. 

"Excellent, now I'll keep this brief so you can follow along," Peter smothers a smile as Derek fails to hide a laugh, "1. Anyone would be lucky to date you, regardless of your or their dynamic, gender, sexuality, or any of the other bullshit labels society uses to belittle diversity. 2. Stiles is not Kate. Do not be a pigheaded jerk and act like he is, and 3. If you do not text him back yourself, I will gladly have Danny use his evil hacking skills to do it for you." Peter finishes with a flourish as he gives Derek a smug smile.

"Arg!" Derek snarls as he rubs a hand over his face, "You make it sound like Stiles already agreed. Too bad he'll be sorely disappointed when he sees what a failure of an Alpha I am." 

"Your mother is a failure of an Alpha. Sadly, you are too self-deprecating to realize you are the ideal Alpha." Derek lets out a derisive snort, "I swear if you make me list out all your positive traits, I am tagging along on this date with your baby book," Peter pokes Derek as he flashes his eyes in annoyance.

Derek rolls his eyes, but a smile begins to tug on his lips, "Why do I have a therapist when I have you? You'd think after all these years I'd be over her influence."

"Oh yes, you shouldn't allow the fact that a grown woman seduced and then violated you as a pre-dynamic fifteen-year-old boy cause you stress years later; and we don't need to call our therapist to tell that type of abuse will completely ruin _any person's_ life and self-perception." Peter gently grabs Derek by the shoulders and scents him along the back of his neck, "You are so much more than what happened to you. I don't ever want to hear you say otherwise. What she did was vile, and she is the one who should be feeling like shit." Peter feels Derek shiver, but then he lets out a shaky breath, "All you have to do is say the word, and she will be nothing more than a bad memory." 

Derek runs his hand down Peter's neck and arm. Peter doesn't need words to know Derek is grateful, albeit overwhelmed. Derek takes a step back and seems to decide as he stands up tall. 

"Thanks, Peter, but no. I don't want her coming after you," Derek continues on before Peter can argue, "Although, you're right, it's time I move on," Derek pulls out his phone and unlocks the screen. "I'm not going to let idiot Alpha's ruin a good thing; I can do that all on my own." Derek lets out a soft chuckle, "Now let me read." 

The room is silent as Derek scrolls through the messages. A smile spreads across his face, and all the pain and worry vanish. Without waiting, Derek types out a reply; then he looks over at Peter before pocketing his phone again. He moves toward the door but is stopped by Peter blocking his way, "Don't leave me hanging here!" 

"He's going to pick me up tonight for dinner." Derek tells him as he steps around his uncle, "I refuse to tell you anything else until after the date." Derek's laugh is lighter as Peter glares at him in mock outrage. "If you'll excuse me, I must be off to update Laura about the budget meeting."

"I raised you better than this!" Peter shouts after him with a smile.

********************

Stiles' thoughts scatter and swirl in his head as the elevator doors close on Scott's stupid face. A few catch his attention:

_**Dad was right. Longest elevator ride in the world. Scott is a moron if he thinks this is going to work. I'm not going to let this take-over happen. Need more coffee. That law can't still be legal. Lydia might know. Or Chris. Why do they call it an elevator when it also goes down? Did I save my code? Fuck I need to research Omega law again. I hope they get food poisoning. It's three floors, what is taking so long?! Derek.**_

That last thought has Stiles pulling his phone out in a burst of excitement. He fumbles it and almost drops it twice before he can unlock the screen. Then the most beautiful message in all of messaging ever greets him. 

**Derek[09:35]: Why don't you get something besides coffee and Reese's with me tonight? That way you can be critical of my outfit in person.**

Forgetting about hostile Alphas and dumb ex-best friends Stiles lets out a whoop and breaks into dance. Just as the elevator doors open, to Gerald Argent's ugly mug. 

"Don't care you old fart! I'll deal with you and your skank daughter later!!" Stiles gyrates passed the shocked Alpha, "I'm going out with the only Alpha that matters!" Stiles stands behind the red-faced old man and tries to pelvic thrust and type at the same time, "Be jealous! Oh, and your granddaughter has the personality of a wet newspaper!" Stiles shouts as he practically skips down the basement stairs.

Stiles not wanting to leave Derek in limbo sends a text:

**Stiles[10:47]: Why Mr. Bookish are you asking me out?**

**Stiles[10:47]: Too bad. You are asking me out cause I say yes.**

**Stiles[10:47]: You must wear your powdered blue suit. I'll wear my matching plaid one.**

**Stiles[10:47]: Ohhhhhhhhhh. Let me pick you up! I have the perfect idea for dinner.**

Stiles stops for a moment as he sees Lydia and Chris are not in his office. He wanted a second and third opinion on what he just learned, both upstairs and via phone. He feels anger creep into his thoughts as he thinks over everything he learned from the Argents. How dare they think they can pull some archaic Alpha law out of their asses and expect Stiles to take it. Their prejudices must make them see him as meek. Stiles laughs at the thoughts. Sure, it might be hard to fight back if he doesn't have an Alpha representative. The laws still exist in California that Omegas can be jailed for 'social disobedience.' He knows there is a strong movement to do away with the outdated system, but that doesn't help him currently. 

**Stiles[10:48]: Do you know anything about omega law?**

****

****

**Stiles[10:48]: I still want to get together even if the answer is no. You can't keep too much info in that big beautiful brain of yours. Not good for your digestion.**

Stills has no clue what he is typing. The mixture of excitement, dread, and anger has him feeling like he missed a dosage of Adderall and drank energy drinks instead. His skin is too tight and the air too heavy for him to stay at the office.

**Stiles[10:48]: Man do I have a story for you. It's probably a horrible first date story. So maybe we should have dinner. Then I take you home. You get your car and pick me up twenty minutes later for our second date. Yes? Good.**

Stiles shoves his phone into his pocket before he types anything else. Derek might be used to his nonsensical tangents by now, but he doesn't want to overload the poor guy before they even get together. He picks up his bag and begins to shove his laptop and notes into it. Stiles stops and looks at the code he left up on the screen. He glances back to the door before finishing shutting down his workstation. It takes him longer than he anticipated for him to set everything to rights. 

He checks his phone despite it not buzzing with any new texts. No messages from Derek yet, Stiles calms himself down by remembering Derek is in some meeting. He chews a thumbnail before sending one last message.

**Stiles[10:59]: So if you could kindly ignore my manic ramble from the previous text that would be great. I still like to pick you up tonight, if that is okay? Is 7 too early? Also on second thought save the blue suit for another time, tonight we are going casual. If you still want to that is?**

Stiles gives his office one last long look. He may have just found out about the Argents and is probably not giving the matter is full attention, but he knows this will be the last time he'll be allowed at Triple S for a while. Something tells him he needs to get everything essential out of the building today, now. Listing to the voice for once Stiles gathers up all his flash drives and data. He stops on the way to the door, a thought striking him. He quickly walks back, a quick shuffle through his bag produces the right drive, and he leaves it on the desk, partially under a few papers. 

He walks out the door and through the lobby. No one stops him; no one is around to see him. He makes it to his car without fanfare and tosses his bag on the passenger seat. Just as he is about to take off, a buzzing in his pocket has him stopping. He reads over the message with something close to pure joy. 

**Derek[09:35]: 7 sounds perfect. I'll send you my address. I'll be the grouch in the powdered blue shirt.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! 
> 
> Next chapter is their date, some very awkward flirt, and mayhaps the beginnings of an evil plot to take over the world ... or ruin Scott and the Argents.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive the errors. I edit my own work, badly.

"Jaaaaaaaacksssssssssssson!!! Help me." Stiles is not whining. He's NOT. He's just asking with emphasis, a lot of emphases. 

He almost feels guilty for bothering Jackson when he sees the Beta bleary glare with pursed lips. Almost, since Jackson had called him two days ago at four am in a minor panic. Apparently, being away for a month on business in Japan and two bottles of Sake made Jackson think he'd be replaced. Stiles spend the better part of two hours convincing him that no one could ever take his place (where would he even find another asshole jerk with a heart of gold?), Danny was still madly in love with him (Stiles had to spend early that day discussing the very same thing with Danny) and that yes Stiles would always be his friend, even if Jackson occasionally teased Stiles about his everything. 

In a way, it was only fair to call Jackson now. Who else had the fashion sense and ability to speak Stiles-nese, to aid him in this crucial moment? Besides, it wasn't his fault that Lydia refused, Chris only believes in neutral colors, and Isaac is MIA, again. Jackson was his last hope, his Jacobi-wan Kenobi. 

"I've told you for years, you are beyond help," Jackson snickers from the laptop screen, he looks around Stiles' room as the other man disappears around a corner. Jackson's eyebrows slowly raise as he takes in the epicenter of what is obviously a bomb dentation site. Stiles' apartment is generally a tidy place, sure there are comics, books, data sticks, and coffee cups to be found in odd places at times; but he keeps things organized and relatively clutter-free.

Looking around Stiles' bedroom, it is clear Lydia was right to warn him. She texted him moments before Stiles Skype call. Jackson stares at the mess; there is clothing everywhere. Not just clothing but shoes, belts, a few hats, and even what looks to be some suit jackets. "Uhhh, Stiles?" Jackson calls out to the empty room, "Did you let Lydia into your closet again?"

Stiles stomps back into the room. He is tangled in some clothing, and his voice is muffled as he shouts, "She refused to help me after telling me to," Stiles begins to imitate Lydia, "stop making mountains where there is only a molehill and pick a damn outfit." Stiles finally pulls the shirt off, and huffs out a sigh, "I'm not sure what her boobs have to do with finding an outfit, but she was using her scary voice. So, I called you. Now help!" Stiles walks over to the laptop his eyes pleading, "please Jackson? Please?"

Jackson blinks for a few moments before bursting out laughing, "Stilinski, you are by far the most moronic genius I know." He shakes his head in amusement, "does this have anything to do with getting fired?"

"What?! Pshaw, no," Stiles throws his hands up before turning to one of the many piles littering his floor. “I was not _fired_. I may have taken the rest of the day off," Stiles begins to throw articles of clothing around his room, "with no intention of returning in the near future." Jackson stares at the Omega, Stiles would never willing leave Triple S. He sits back as Stiles continues to rage, "It's not like there is going to be a company for Scott and the Assgents soon anyway." Stiles stands up with an "AHA!" He turns back to his desk and Jackson, "Next time fact check with Lydia before listening to Chris. Now, what do you think of this shirt?" Stiles holds up a red T-shirt which proclaims: **Sarcasm is my superpower**.

Jackson looks from the shirt to Stiles, he breaths out slowly, "Please tell me you are not planning to wear a fucking graphic tee on your first date with Mr. Perfect. If so, I need to call Danny to smack you for me." 

Stiles gasps in outrage, "How dare you disrespect the shirt!" He pulls the shirt into his chest and cradles it, "don't worry precious I won't let the rude man belittle you anymore." Stiles' head pops up with a shrewd look, "How'd you know about my date? Who've you been gossiping with Whittemore?" 

Jackson levels a look at Stiles, "For the past year you've had three major topics of conversation 1. obsessing over the atrocity that is the DCU, 2. Geeking out over some 'magical and world-changing' code you are writing, and 3. This un-Alpha, perfect Alpha you are obsessed over. To make it worse for the rest of us, you are too scared to profess your undying love to him. Then on top of that pining you've started lamenting how you'll never meet Mr. Perfect in person." Jackson pause to give Stiles a moment to glare and to add dramatic flair, "Also, Lydia warned me about your potential crisis." Jackson laughs as Stiles face reddens. 

"That's not true! I've also waxed on for hours about his dry wit and sexy brain," Stiles cuts in with a pout. Then he smirks, "We talk about other things too! Just last week I had to listen to you gripe over the story only having red cotton blend when you were looking for a crimson cotton blend, or what about when we talked about your inability to sext with Danny?" Stiles attempts to look serious.

"It's not my fault Danny doesn't understand insinuation." Jackson grumbles, "Which is not the point." He takes a deep breath before mutter to himself, "I am so going to regret this," then louder, "Okay, before you completely spiral, where are you going on this date?"

Stiles opens his mouth with a hand up. He lowers his hand as his mouth abruptly shuts. He gives a panicked look to Jackson.

Jackson leans his head back and lets out a pained groan, "Please tell me that means he's picking the place and is keeping it a surprise?" Jackson asks hopefully, albeit snarkily. 

"Uhhh, no?" Stiles shifts from foot to foot and is very intrigued by his shirt again, "So, I might have told him I had plans for dinner and to dress casual. At the time I'm pretty sure I the did have plans for us were amazing, but then I ran into Geriatric Assgent and had to dance him into an early grave. Then there was my office, the drive home, calling my dad to share the good news, setting up my dummy account, and finding the perfect outfit. Now I don't remember what all I had planned. I mean I think I do, but I'm second-guessing that idea because he is a foodie and I don't want to scare him off with grease and carbs." 

Stiles has himself in full ramble mode as Jackson wishes he could shake him out of it as he unsuccessfully shouts his name. "STILES!" He cries as he slaps a hand down on the table. Stiles stops and stares at him like a deer caught by a hunter, "Calm, your manic." 

Stiles sits down heavily on the bed, "Easy for you to say, you've known your mate since elementary school."

Jackson lets out a choked laugh, "Yeah, and yet I still spent years avoiding my feelings. Hell, I'd still be dating Lydia if she hadn't dumped my ass and told me to stop pretending." Jackson shakes his head at the memory.

Stiles snorts, "She was just tired of you making eyes across the room," Stiles lets out a sigh, "you were such an adorable idiot, what happened?" 

"Watch it Stilinski, remember you came begging for my help." Jackson threatens, but his smile takes all the sting out of his words, "Once again you managed to sidetrack us with your pathetic love life. Right, you are banned from talking until after I get you dressed."

"I refuse to be one of your dress-me-Barbies!" Stiles pops to his feet and sniffs, "I have way better curves than any of your models." 

Jackson rolls his eyes, "You also have a much bigger attitude. Gods I hope Mr. Perfect knows what he is getting into. Get your skinny black jeans and the red shirt I got you for last Christmas."

Stiles moves off to one of the piles, "I'll have you know that Derek loves my charmingly amazing personality." 

Jackson's eyes narrow at the name, and a slow smile spreads across his face. Stiles is too busy searching to notice, "Did Derek happen to give you a last name?"

"Nope figured he'd just take mine when we marry," Stiles says absently from under his bed. 

"This poor man has no idea what he is getting into with your spastic ass. What did you say he does for a living again?" Jackson asks as nonchalantly as possible. 

He really didn't need to bother; Stiles was busy trying to reemerge from under his bed with his bounty, "He helps his sister run some company. I don't know the specifics since he only does it to help his family. I swear he should be doing something with books instead. That man is a true bibliophile." Stiles says that last part with a smile, "This outfit?" He holds up the articles of clothing.

Jackson quickly finishes and sends the question he typed to Danny and looks back. He rubs at his chin for a moment, "It's not Milan ready, but if this outfit doesn't get you a good-night kiss, I renounce my title as world's best fashion designer." 

"I thought your title was world's biggest asshole designer," Stiles pauses with his mouth still open, then he begins to laugh, "That … that is just, yeah, oh MY gwad, yes. Your new name." He clutches his sides as he falls back on the bed, laughing.

"Just for that little act of juvenile humor, you can pick out your own damn shoes," Jackson snarls to hide his own helpless smile. 

Stiles waves a helpless hand at the now dark computer screen, "Oh man, I need to tell this to Scott." His laughing suddenly cuts off, "Aw fuck." 

Stiles thumps his head against the bed, for a while there he completely forgot about the betrayal and backstabbing perpetrated by his ex-best friend. He stares at the ceiling as he comes to the realization that he isn't to upset over the loss. Sure, it hurts that over a decade of friendship ended on such bad terms. Although, if Stiles was honest with himself, the friendship had been circling the drain for a long time. Ever since Scott got back together with Allison really. 

He heaves out a sigh and sits up. He's not going to let Scott take up any more of his time. Stiles has spent too long in Scott's shadow, it's time he ventured into the light. The first step, woo the pants off a certain Mr. Bookish. Then once he has his man, step two: destroy Scott and leave him in ruin. 

Stiles smiles as he mentally sets up his checklist. Now, he has a date to get ready for, at this thought, Stiles glances around his room with an appraising look. Rubbing a hand through his hair, Stiles checks the time. He practically falls off his bed when he realizes he needs to shower, get dressed, find shoes, and freak out all in less than four hours. 

 

"You look like a bigger social reject than usual," Laura leans against his door frame with a laugh, "where did you even find that shirt? Poets and Pirates?" 

Derek flushes and fingers the frilly sleeves of the baby blue shirt, "I stole it from Peter's closet." He mumbles, "I regret ever giving you a spare key."

She pushes herself off the frame and circles around Derek, "Honey, I love you like a sister," Derek snorts at that, and she lightly punches him, "but this shirt might be too … expressive for you." 

Derek looks at her through the mirror, "It's a joke." 

"It better not be one at your expense," Laura flashes red eyes. Derek is oddly touched by her protectiveness, misguided though it may be.

"No, it's how he is going to know it's me. I said I'd wear powered blue," Derek turns away from the mirror, "I have another shirt under it. Besides Stiles isn't like that." 

Laura runs a hand through Derek's hair, she chuckles at his affronted look, "Well, he'll definitely be able to see you." Her lips twitch in a way that lets Derek know what she is going to say he probably won't like, "I think I should come with you."

Derek groans, "No." 

He grabs his wallet and phone off the dresser and tries to leave the room. Laura blocks his path, "I just want to get a scent of this guy. Give him a once over, make sure he is worthy of my baby brother." She crosses her arms while giving Derek her Alpha Look.

"Laura, no." Derek tries to slip by her without luck.

"Derek, if you wind up in some kinky sex basement with this 'Stiles' telling you to call him Master I'll never forgive myself." 

Derek has to bite his lip at that one, "Laura, trust me when I say if that happens, you will never know about it."

Laura stares at him for a moment before her eyes widen and she smacks his arm, "Oh gross, Der. You know what I mean." She huffs him and pulls out her trump card, "If you don't want me in the lobby at a discreet distance away just observing, then I have no recourse other than letting Peter go in my place." She inwardly smiles at Derek's look of horror.

"Fine," he bites out, "but you stay across the room and absolutely no teeth ripping out throats talk." He gives her an almost pleading look, "please."

Laura steps to the side with a grin and follows him to his door, "You won't even know I'm there."

 

Stiles is ridiculously early. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he contemplates just going into the lobby. He's been sitting in his car, but it is getting cold, and he doesn't want to leave it running. A look at the dashboard clock shows him it is still 6:38pm. Well, if he goes in, it will give him a chance to get a look around. Find all the exits and whatnot. Stiles slaps the wheel one last time and turns off his car. 

It is a short walk from his parking spot outside the luxury apartment building. Stiles mentally gives himself a pep talk. It doesn't matter where Derek lives, he is a sweet, attentive, and modest Alpha. Just because he lives in a place that costs more a month than Stiles' car doesn't change any of that. Besides Stiles could live in an apartment like this, he just preferred to be close to his dad.

The doorman nods to him as Stiles steps through the entrance. Continuing his pep talk, Stiles reminds himself to try and think before speaking. There won't be the safety of typing his words to slow him down. He doesn't want to scare off Derek. Which reminds him, he needs to be sure not to make Derek uncomfortable, well no more uneasy then he'll probably already be on their first meeting. Stiles knows that Derek is a lot shier and more reserved in person, he'll have to remember not to talk too much. 

The lobby is beautiful, an area open with plenty of windows to let in as much natural light as possible. There are two sitting areas with couches, a few armchairs and coffee tables. There is another area with a TV mounted and more comfy look couches. Stiles smiles at the lady behind the reception desk as he lets her know he is meeting someone. There are a few people talking while a football game plays on TV. There is a beautiful yet scary woman reading a magazine in one of the lounge areas, she taps a pointed nail against the armrest as Stiles looks away. Then as he looks at the other lounge, Stiles feels his heart stop.

There, looking slightly annoyed, is the most gorgeous man to ever exist, reading a book. If Stiles had ever sat down to make a list of the perfect man, this guy would be the end result. The scowl darkening his sharp features only adds to his appeal. Stiles' eyes begin to travel down the man's toned body, and two things occur to him at once. The first one about melts his brain, this specimen of physical perfection is Derek. The hideous powered blue shirt looks like something from a D&D game, but Stiles just knows its Mr.Bookish. The second thought has Stiles almost hanging his head in shame, he is objectifying the Alpha.

Okay, so he kinda, in a way, sorta had a feeling that Derek was handsome. The man had made references to the unwanted attention of a few Beta women at work, but Stiles didn't realize just how attractive. Now he feels like a shallow jerk for ogling Derek so openly. Way to make sure it isn't uncomfortable Stilinski. 

Right, he can do this. He can walk over and talk to the man of his dream and not objectify the beautiful Alpha. He knows what it's like to be considered nothing more than a warm body for some fun. It's not a pleasant feeling, nor is it one he wants to subject Derek to if he can help it. With that thought in mind, Stiles makes his way over. As he gets close, Derek lifts his head and meets his eyes; and oh what pretty eyes they are too. 'I will not objectify the very pretty Alpha,' Stiles reminds himself. His mouth goes dry as Derek seems to realize who he is and stands up. It takes a lot of effort not to stare lower than Derek's navel at this point, 'I will not objectify the very pretty Alpha.' Stiles stops across the coffee table from Derek and for the first time in his life is at a loss for words.

"Stiles? Well, I really hope you are Stiles," Derek asks with a light pink touching his cheeks. 

His voice is softer than Stiles imagined, but it's the hint of a blush that does him in entirely, "I will not objectify the very pretty Alpha." 

Derek looks confused for a moment before his blush darkens and seems to spread to his ears. Stiles watches in slowly dawning dismay as he realizes that he'd spoken that last commend aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know that was a horrible place to stop. Blame my sense of comedic (bad) timing. Next part is almost finished if that helps. 😅
> 
> Let me know what you think. Kudos and comments feed the muse.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my mistakes. I self edit, badly.
> 
> Note: If you read the last chapter when it was first posted I added a few minor lines to it and fixed a few mistakes. 
> 
> If anyone finds this too love at first sight, Stiles and Derek have been conversing for close to a year. So they do know each other, just not in person.

Stiles knows he is staring. It must be a sight to behold with his mouth agape and his eyes wide, but his brain seems to have shut down after that little stunt. Way to be a team player there mental filter, he really should make a warning sign: **Unreliable brain to mouth filers. Converse with at your own risk.**. At least he also has the knack to talk himself out of most situations. Okay, it’s more like he talks enough that people forget what the original problem had been. Time to play distraction.

Stiles looks back up and almost blurts out how pretty Derek is when confused. Gah, the other man’s mouth is slightly parted with his cheeks flaming red. Stiles wants to lick them. Stiles is thankfully pulled from his spiraling thoughts when he hears a loud thud and some very creative cursing from across the room. He watches as Derek’s eyes flash red and he glares in the direction of the cursing. Stiles is about to try and salvage what little dignity he has, or more likely digger a deeper grave, when Derek begins to speak.

“Ummm, sorry? I did … it won’t… how could …” Stiles is slowly discovering a new and previously undiscovered kink, and it’s called Derek. He is memorized by the Alpha’s nervous stuttering. How someone can look so composed and yet completely baffled is beyond him, but it’s totally working, “I mean sorry.” Derek is looking down at the floor with a crestfallen expression, “I thought you said you were an Omega, though?” He looks up quickly with wide eyes, “not that I care, it’s just … why? I mean ... Derek trails off and lets out a little growling breath which Stiles saves to memory. 

Then the words finally take root, and Stiles snorts out a laugh. “Wait, did you just apologize to me for my own thoughts?” Stiles watches a few emotions flit across Derek’s face before confusion settles firmly with his eyebrows. Stiles is starting to believe that understanding Derek-eses is all in the eyebrows. 

“You just told me to stop objectifying you,” Derek bites out. 

Ohhhhh … well, that is interesting. Stiles watches as Derek’s face loudly voices his embarrassment. It seems he might not be the only one with impure thoughts. A wicked smile teases at the corners of his mouth, “You were picturing me naked, weren’t you?”

There is a crashing sound as a woman begins to laugh. Derek’s eyes flash red again, and he clenches his jaw, “that isn’t… NO.” Stiles looks up to the Derek translators and smirks as he is told, ‘hell yes.’

“Dude, that is so,” Stiles pauses with a sharp intake of breath, “unfortunate.” He stops as Derek’s glare intensifies, and Stiles has to shift as he feels heat pool in his stomach. “Since I was totally picturing what you look like under that monstrosity you seemed to have dug up from the pits of a ren-fair reject pile.” It takes an effort of strong will to not give in to the temptation to say ‘awwwwwww’ and pull Derek into a hug when the Alpha’s face seems to close off completely. Stiles’ hand twitches, but he holds off; instead, he quickly adds, “I was talking to myself.”

Derek quickly looks back at him, the look of confusion back on his face. He arches a brow, “Yourself?” He asks in an utterly disbelieving tone. 

Stiles blows out a breath, “Yeah dude, I was so nervous to finally meet you. Then when I saw you sitting there looking lickable,” Stiles should earn an award for not doing just that when Derek’s blush returns with a vengeance, “I felt like a jerk for only thinking about how stupidly gorgeous you were. It’s not fair to that big beautiful brain of yours, and I didn’t want your first impression of me to be clouded by such shallowness. Too bad my brain to mouth filter chose that time to go off-line.” Stiles feels the tension leave the room as Derek considers his words, “At least you now have an inkling of the unimaginable joy you are in for tonight?” Stiles jokes with a teasing grin.

Which Derek returns. A gleam enters his eyes that has Stiles’ stomach rolling with nerves again, “I guess if we are being honest, I wasn’t picturing you naked,” he bites his bottom lip, “I am a gentleman and was only picturing you shirtless.” 

Stiles feels his mouth hit the floor as Derek’s eyes light up, “Oh my god! Dude, you are such an ass!” 

“No, if I were an ass, I’d tell you,” Derek is slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he steps around the coffee table toward Stiles. He pitches his voice low, “Stiles,” Stiles looks at him as he feels heat flood his face, “don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s lips are right next to Stiles’ ear as he whispers that last part in a firm voice. Stiles is pretty sure the only reason he isn’t hard is due to Jackson’s damn pants cutting off circulation to his neither region. He can only impersonate a guppy as Derek laughs and finishes unbuttoning his shirt. Underneath the frilly button-up is a graphic tee which reads: **Books are like people, except interesting.** Stiles is going to have words with Jackson later. Right after he learns how to breathe again. 

“Now, don’t we have an epic date to get too? Or are we still having two dates tonight?” Derek asks with more than a little humor coloring his voice as he drops the shirt into a bag by his feet. 

“Marry me,” Stiles blurts out. 

“DO IT!!!” That same voice from before shouts out. Stiles finally looks behind him to the other side of the room and sees the stunningly scary woman from before quickly duck behind her magazine, but not before Stiles catches her wide smile and wink.

“You fail at discretion, Laura,” Derek mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Someone you know?” Stiles asks while trying not to laugh at Derek’s murderous expression. Oh yeah, he so has a Derek kink.

“Not anymore,” Derek grumbles, “remind me to change my locks later.”

Stiles lets out a scandalized gasp, “Mr. Bookish! You claim to be a gentleman and yet plan to take me to your place on the first date to do unspeakable things?!” 

Derek rolls his eyes, “Says the pervert picturing me sans clothing.”

Stiles purses his lips with an amused huff, “There was a modesty bar if it makes you feel any better.”

“You’re an idiot,” his smile contradicts his words. Then he glances across the room before picking up his bag, “Now, come on before she forgets her promise and comes over here.”

Stiles is stopped from asking who as Derek grabs his hand and practically drags him out of the lobby. He’s never believed in insta-love, but as Derek’s large hands hold his in a gentle grasp, Stiles feels his heart soar like never before. This is more than just the feeling of a crush; this is the certainty that something more was just beginning. Stiles feels a smile spread across his face as he looks back toward the happy laughter filling the lobby. The unknown woman blows him a kiss as he is pulled out the door. 

 

Once they were outside, it became apparent who is the woman in the lobby. He isn’t positive which sister decided to play bodyguard, but he gets the feeling it was Laura based on her sense of humor. He’d ask Derek, but it looks like the other man is finally calming down. Stiles smiles as he watches Derek relax minutely. His shoulders looked less tense and weren’t at his ears. Not wanting to cause the Alpha any more stress, an idea occurs to Stiles.

“Hi,” he says brightly as he turns entirely to the Alpha. Derek gives him a guarded look, complete with one raised eyebrow, “I’m Stiles Stilinski, although you may know me better as Mischief_Unmanaged. It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the person who I’ve enjoyed getting to know these past months.” Stiles holds out his hand and gives an inner cheer as Derek’s lips twitch as he tries to hold back a smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Stiles. I’m Derek.” 

They shake hands, and Stiles feels something settling in him as he holds onto Derek’s hand. Probably for a lot longer than is appropriate but neither seem to be in any hurry to let go. Then just before it gets bizarre Stiles reluctantly let’s go.

Not wanting to let things fizzle out, Stiles coughs and runs a hand through his hair, “So, uh how hungry are you?” He fidgets as Derek only stares at him, “yeah I had this idea for what we can do, and I think you will like it. It’s just that we should do that before eating and there is of course food involved! But we might want to head over now before it gets too busy and we won’t want to be there if it is a busy night. Although it is probably safe since it is a Thursday.” 

Derek stares at him before saying, “Okay.”

Stiles flails a bit, not expecting such easy agreement, “Okay? That’s it?! You don’t want to know what I have planned or the fact that I’ll be subjecting you to delicious, delicious food that is nothing but fat, sugar, and carbs. Seriously?!”

Derek regards him, eyebrows inching toward his hairline, “No Stiles,” he begins in a deadpan, “I don’t want to go. I’d much rather stand here and argue with you over your plan.” His eyes are filled with mirth, “How dare you tempt me with scrumptious sounding food and some yet unknown activity only to take it all away from me. In retaliation, I’m making you take me anyway.” 

Stiles opens and closes his mouth a few times before narrowing his eyes, “Did you just use the word scrumptious?”

Derek rolls his eyes, “I’m relieved to know you are a pain in the ass in real life too.”

“HEY!” Stiles practically squawks, “I’m a fucking joy. JOY! Now, come on, stop trying to distract me with your fancy words, we have a date to get to!” 

Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and marches him over to his jeep. Completely missing the fond look directed his way. 

 

Stiles regrets allowing Jackson to pick out his clothing. These pants are a deathtrap when attempting to roller skate. They were already a hazard to his future reproductive health around Derek. That man doesn’t know the power of his awkward charm. Now, as he guides the Alpha in a slow circle around the rink, he wishes for pants that actually moved. 

On the bright side, bringing Derek to the Family Fun Center for roller skating is probably the best idea Stiles has ever had. Glancing at the man clinging to his left side as he tries to not walk his skates Stiles lets out a pleased sigh. He’d so be gushing about this to his diary later if he had one. Maybe he should get one just to document this night.

When Stiles pulled up to the complex Derek’s face was a mixture of trepidation and barely concealed anticipation. He’d been so bashful in his excitement as Stiles explained his plans for the evening. Derek’s awed face as he realized Stiles remembered their conversation was priceless. A while ago, Derek had talked about how he’d always wanted to try roller skating but never had the opportunity. His mother hadn’t wanted to deal with the needs of a teenager and never got around to taking him on any of the outings she’d promised. He missed out on a lot of things that most people took for granted growing up. 

Now, Stiles planned to rectify some of that old hurt. It was amazing to watch as Derek took in the noisy chaos of the gaming center as they walked through it to the rink. Then his eyes lingered on the bowling lanes. Stiles had an inkling that bowling was also on the list of activities promised but never delivered. Well, he’d just have to add that to his own list of things he wanted to experience with the Alpha.

They are lucky and have the skating rink to themselves Stiles is thanking whichever God had granted that small miracle. Roller skate is not something Stiles is particularly good at during the best of circumstances. Having a solid mass of wolf clinging to his side and extremely restricted movement is not helping any. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep himself from falling on his ass. He risks a look over at Derek, and the look of profound concentration on his face makes it all worth it.

“You know, for a wolf, you are horribly uncoordinated,” Stiles teases quietly.

Derek doesn’t remove his gaze from his skates, “Have you ever seen a wolf skate?” 

Stiles about stops moving at the questions. Thankfully Derek has enough sense to keep them moving. Stiles feels unsteady as he wobbles. Derek’s arm tightens as he maneuvers them toward a wall. They make it to the support and Derek does a little turn, so he has his back to the wall. Stiles watches the move with an inquisitive look. 

“You little shit,” Stiles points a finger at Derek, who looks startled, “you aren’t really this bad at skating,” Stiles tells him, crossing his arms.

Derek looks guilty, “Oh, don’t give me the cute look now.” Stiles shifts and finds his left foot not stopping, his arms pinwheel as his left foot slips from under him. He clenches his eyes shut as he braces himself for a hard landing. When he doesn’t feel the floor greet his backside, he squints open an eye and finds Derek hold him up. 

“Thanks, dude,” he mutters as he feels his face heat up. He frowns as Derek lets go of him once Stiles seems steady enough.

Derek gives him a small smile before sighing, “You’re right I don’t suck at skating, now. That first half-hour though, you save me from eating the floor more than a few times.” 

Stiles feels the world tilt, “You lying liar.” Stiles hisses, “all this time we could have been practicing our synchronize skating routine for nations.”

Derek’s eyebrows do their own synchronized routine, “that’s… not the response I expected.” Derek sounds befuddled again, “did you hit your head?”

Stiles twirls around and grabs Derek’s hand, “Only when I fell from heaven.”

The sound of Derek facepalming is almost louder than the disco music playing over the intercom, “I’m pretty sure I’m to be using that line on you,” he mutters. 

“How sweet of you to say I am heaven sent,” Stiles teases as he moves them. Thus he is skating backward while still holding Derek’s hand. “sorry to disappoint you Tonya Harding but I can see right through your gruff posturing.

Derek looks back at him, “What?”

“You just wanted to make me look good in front of our adoring fans,” Stiles waves a hand to the teenage girls who are using the benches around the rink to do each other’s hair. “It was sweet of you to know my worry over your safety would interfere with my mad skills and adjust our routine accordingly.”

Derek eyebrows gradually climb his forehead as Stiles talks until they are visiting their neighbors up north, “I don’t know which is worse, the fact that I understood all of that, or that you are right.”

Stiles just beams at him, “don’t be a sourwolf, let’s open these babies up and see what they can really do.” Stiles lifts a skate and is saved from certain death, or at least epic embarrassment, by Derek grabbing both his arms.

“You need a warning sign,” the wolf grumbles as he attempts to keep Stiles upright.

Stiles gasps, “Right?! Gods, where have you been all my life?!” 

Derek’s face flushes, and he licks his lips, “Did you try the library?”

“You need to stop that right now,” Stiles groans, “this is a PG environment, and I will not have your lewd tongue flicking cause us to get kicked out.”

Derek sticks his tongue out the corner of his mouth, “If this is lewd behavior for you, I’m not sure your delicate sensitivities will survive our second date.”

Stiles almost swallows his own tongue at Derek’s low murmur. He trips over his skates when he tries to twirl around and once again finds his feet airborne. Derek had let go of his one arm as they’d skated, he makes a grab for it, just as Stiles is reaching for him. They miss entirely, and Derek pitches forward with Stiles. Stiles tries to curl onto his side, it’s going to hurt when he lands with 200-ish lbs of werewolf. He closes his eyes and preys the landing doesn’t break anything, especially his tailbone. That is not the first date story he wants to be telling their grandkids. With his eyes closed, it feels as if the fall takes forever. There are hands and the sense of spinning before a dull thump.

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice whispers in his ear, “you can open your eyes. We survived the fall.”

Stiles lets out a helpless little laugh as he glances around. Somehow during their flight, Derek had to roll them, so he was the one to land on the bottom, taking the brunt of the impact. Stiles begins to move of the Alpha and lifts his arms and legs.

“Stiles, what are you doing,” he asks with a laugh in his voice.

“Checking you over for injuries. Need to make sure this story is still appropriate for our future grandkids. Can you feel this?” Stiles asks as he pokes Derek’s stomach. He didn’t really _need_ to poke his stomach, but the temptation was too great. Derek laughs as Stiles fingers dance over his side. Stiles’ smile lights up his whole person with his discovery.

“No!” Derek breaths out at Stiles look and starts inching back, “Stiles no,” He tells the other man firmly.

“Pshaw, Derek PG remember,” Stiles tells the fleeing man. He may want to explore this find, but not in the middle of a family fun center, “besides, my hero needs his reward.”

“Why does that sound so ominous?” Derek questions with a hint of amusement. Stiles gives Derek an obviously evil innocent look as he knee walks toward him. 

“Probably because you are such a sourwolf who needs me to lighten your dark world.” Stiles tells him as he closes the distance between them, “just like I need you to save me from myself.” He stops as Derek’s eyes meet his. There is a look in them that has Stiles swallowing the joke he was about to say. Instead, he gives the other man a soft smile as he cups his cheek and lowers his head to rub his nose over the tip of Derek’s. He feels more than hears the Alpha’s sudden inhale. 

Shifting away slightly Stiles could get used to the happy look on Derek’s face. 

“Awwwwww!!”

“YOU GET YOUR ALPHA!”

“Suck his face!”

“That is like the cutest thing ever.”

Stiles and Derek look over at the group of teenagers. They were pressed up against the glass around the rink, cell phones out and looks of delight on their heavily made-up faces. They continue to cat-call and whistle as Derek gets to his feet and helps Stiles up.

“I think that is our cue to exit stage left,” Stiles rolls to the exit across from the gaggle. “Way to ruin our moment,” he grumbles quietly. He steals a look at Derek, their eyes meet again, and Stiles is pretty sure his face is as red as Derek’s. They unlace their skates, stealing glances, and ignoring the teenager slowly inching their way around the room. A low grumble sounds, Stiles looks down at his stomach in betrayal. Then Derek’s stomach lets out what can only be called a roar. Stiles arches a brow. He bites his tongue as Derek glares down at his own betrayer. 

“Hungry?” Stiles asks with a grin.

“I guess I could eat.” Derek replies with a shrug, “Let’s go some ‘sugar, fat, and carb’ filled food before our stomachs riot.”

“You read my mind,” Stiles hops to his feet, “plus I’m dying of thirst.”

Derek is walking in front of Stiles to the skate return. He turns around with a look of horror, “Stiles! This is a family establishment, please keep from voicing your untoward needs until we are in private.” He gives Stiles a small shake of his head with a look of disappointment. 

Stiles gapes at him in confusion. What in the ever-loving hell is Derek’s problem? Stiles is about to let the wolf have a piece of his mind when he notices the slight twitch of Derek’s lips. Stiles’ eyes widen as he stares in shock.

“You ass! I thought you were really pissed!” Stiles rages as Derek laughs. Stiles smacks the wolf on the arm and immediately regrets it as his hand meets a wall. 

“You should have seen your face,” Derek chuckles.

Stiles shakes out his hand, he continues to glare at the unamusing Alpha as they hand over the skates and get their shoes back, “For someone who constantly reminded me how much of tightlipped pillar of awkwardness they are, you sure are talkative,” Stiles is thankfully watching Derek and sees the wolf tense at his words. “Not that I’m complaining,” he quickly adds, “but I think your sisters have been lying to you for years to make sure you don’t use your powers for evil.”

Derek finishes with his boots, “Or you’re babbling is actually an alien virus, and I have a stage one infection.”

“Marry me,” Stiles tells him with a dreamy expression.

Derek ducks his head, “Why don’t we try getting some food first. Then you can tell me about this Alpha problem you are dealing with at work. If you can stomach sitting through a meal with me, later we can discuss flower arrangements.” 

Stiles sighs but takes Derek’s offered hand, “Fine. But just know roses are a hard limit for me. I could be talked into lilies depending on our color scheme.”

“I hope your next proposal comes with a ring,” Derek mumbles as they walk toward the food court. He misses the mischief glinting in Stiles’ eyes as he pulls the Omega closer with their linked hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I cut their first date in two. In my defense my insomnia is failing me and sleep is actually in my future. Also it felt like a good place to stop since evil plotting against Mccoward and Assgents is next.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! Kudos and comments are much appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's reading this! It's gotten over 1000 kudos!! 
> 
> This is an extra-long chapter as a thank you.
> 
> As always, please excuse my mistakes. If you see one that is really bad please let me know so I can fix it.

There are some things in this world which are too horrible, too unspeakable, and just too grotesque for a person to do anything in the face of such atrocities but stare. Stiles can’t believe what he is watching, he gives a quick look around and finds he is alone in his observations. He turns back to the crime taking place in front of him and wonders how on earth he will ever be able to look at Derek the same way again. How had things gone so bad? Where had he gone wrong?!

“Why do you look like you are about to have a stroke?” Derek asks him after putting his utensils down and wiping at his mouth. 

“How could you?!” Stiles hisses.

Derek picks back up his fork and stabs another piece of corndog; taking a bite doesn’t diminish his smirk the slightest, “want a bite?” he asks with complete innocence as he holds up his fork with a piece of corndog. 

“Aack! NO! That … that’s just wrong on so many levels! You are destroying everything that is good and pure in their world!? Stiles takes a savage bite of his pizza as Derek arches a brow at him.

“Are you upset that I’m not eating the clearly phallic item with a fork and knife? A food you declared I could not live any longer without trying and my manners wouldn’t allow me to say no,” Derek tells him with an amused lilt. 

“What?! No.” Stiles leans closer to the ‘were, “and you can’t say words like that while I’m eating!” He huffs as he glares harder.

“What? Manners?” Derek’s eyes are wide with fake innocence, he swipes his bite of corndog through the mustard on his plate, “I know yours are lacking, but I thought maybe you could learn via example.” He pops the bite in his mouth, and his smile is positively wolfish. 

Stiles bangs his head on the table, “What you are doing to that corndog should be illegal. Dude, it comes on a stick for a reason! Also, I have excellent manners,” Stiles turns his nose, “when I am around polite company. Which obviously isn’t here, since I am with a heathen who eats a corndog with utensils!”

” Cutting it up ensures the ratio of coating to meat is consistent,” Derek shrugs, “besides this seemed like something you’d find repulsive?”

“Say what now?” 

Derek’s grin looks a little sharper, “You steal my fries. I ruin your future masturbatory materials.”

Stiles feels all color drain from his face before heat infuses it, “That isn’t… dude what … I would never … Hey! You said I could have some!” Stiles grumbles the last bit as he folds his arms and wills his face to cool off. 

“I said you could have one. Not take the whole plate,” Derek snarks back.

“How was I to know that your secret condiment mixture was ambrosia and would force me to eat it all?!” Stiles feels a pout trying to take over his lower lip.

“I offered to get you your own plate and condiments!” Derek throws his hands up, “you said no.”

“I was being polite! You are to eat sparingly on a first date!” 

Derek is about to argue back when a look crosses his face, “Says who?”

Stiles half-heartedly shrugs, “Everyone?” His voice is quiet, Derek wouldn’t have heard it over the slightly too loud pop music playing without his wolf completely attuned to Stiles.

“Bullshit,” Derek growls out. 

 Stiles’ head pops up as he narrows his eyes at Derek. “What?”

“Who cares what ‘everyone’ thinks?” Derek arches a brow, almost in a challenge, “pretty sure everyone would agree that you should have let that knot-head take your heat. Didn’t listen then, so why listen now?” 

Stiles looks at Derek for so long that the Alpha begins to fidget with his fork. Not sure what it says about Stiles that he finds it beyond tempting to throw himself across the table over a few supportive words. Thankfully although his mouth to brain filter is offline, his body to brain filter is working overtime. Instead of trying to determine if he’d fit into the Alpha’s lap as comfortably as he thinks, he simply says, “How are you even real?”

Derek grumbles something Stiles can’t catch as he drops the fork down on his tray, “You are a menace to society,” he stands up and gives Stiles a wink, “good thing I hate society.”

He walks off, leaving Stiles to watch after him. Well, more like cock his head to the side and becomes envious of a pair of jeans. He tilts his head to the other side; those have to be painted onto him. Damn that ass. 

“Shut your fucking mouth. Don’t play hard to get.” A rough nasal voice growls from behind Stiles. 

He turns in his seat and sees an angry Alpha gripping the upper arm of a clearly younger Omega girl. The Alpha looks to be quite a few years older than the teenage girl. He is about medium height with greasy slicked-back blonde hair and dull brown eyes. The girl has bright pink hair and seems to be trying to stand tall against the Alpha as he holds her arm just a bit too high. Stiles looks closer at the girl and realizes she is one of the girls form the rink. She has a look of disgust on her face as she tries to pull away.

“Let go, Lance. I’m not interested!” Her cheeks are a bright red as tears fill her eyes, despite her obvious upset, her voice is firm and clear, “I already told you I’m happy with Debbie!” 

At this, another girl, an Omega, steps up and places a hand on the first girl’s arm, “Let her go, Lance. She doesn’t want your pathetic excuse for a knot. She doesn’t need an Alpha, she has me.” Debbie tells him as she stands tall, taller than the Alpha and looks down on him. 

Lance doesn’t seem to take kindly to Debbie’s words, “That right? You fucking Omega cunt? What can a little _female_ Omega offer other than a wet hole for an _**Alpha**_ to get off in? Bet your slut hole is too loose for even my knot.” Lance glances between the two girls, a nasty gleam shines in his eyes as he licks across his bottom lip, “Although, I hear that Omegas can go into false heat together. That their slick is an aphrodisiac when mixed together, keeps them knot-needy for even longer.” Lance moves closer to Debbie and smirks, “How about we go test these theories?” He makes a grab for the Omega.

“I heard that an Alpha who can’t respect Omegas becomes very familiar with his right hand,” Stiles states as he walks over to the group, “In fact, I hear it’s quite common for these Alphas to lose the ability to knot at all.” He uses the Alpha’s confusion to get the girls away from his loose grip. They don’t go far, standing with Stiles as he faces off against the jerk. Stiles watches as his words finally seem to reach the Alpha. His beady eyes narrow as his face turns deep maroon. 

“Oh, poor little Omega, thinking he can act the Alpha and get involved when he isn’t wanted.” The Alpha sneers at him as attempts to loom over Stiles, who has about a head on him. “Can’t find an Alpha who’d want to fuck your ugly mug? I can’t blame you for wanting me,” The slimeball has the nerve to give Stiles a slow once over. “Have to say, baby, you’d look good on my knot, in the dark.”

Stiles’ pretty sure he’s turning green while the girls make gagging noises behind him, “Wow, who needs ipecac when they have you to induce vomiting.” 

The Alpha darts forward and grabs Stiles by the front of his shirt, “You mouthy little shit. It sounds like you need an Alpha to remind you of your place, _Omega_.” The way he spits out Omega has Stiles clenching a fist.

He takes a deep breath and thinks of happy thoughts, so he doesn’t get himself kicked-out, “Why is every Alpha unable to tell height difference? Seriously, you are like the shortest one here.” Stiles tells the Alpha in a conversational tone.

 At this, the jerk of an Alpha snorts out air through his nose and his hand not trying to pull Stiles closer comes flying at Stiles’ face. Stiles leans to the side as much as he can without ripping his shirt. He fears he is going to have a shiner to try and explain when the fist aimed for at his face is grabbed. Stiles glances beside him and sees Derek, his face a mask.

Lance apparently has a death wish as he sneers, “Ha, can’t even defend yourself stupid _omega_. Good thing this Alpha took pity on you.”

Before Stiles can say anything, Derek lets out a dark chuckle, “Stupid peon,” he tells the Alpha as he drops his hand with a nauseated look, “I’m only intervening to save him from the hassle of kicking your ass.”

A look of bewilderment crosses the idiot’s face before he burst into laughter, “Oh that is a good one,” he lets Stiles go as he doubles over, “if you wanted him so bad all you had to do was say so. He already has an attitude, lying to him will only make him more unruly.” 

Derek’s face clouds over and Stiles quickly grabs him, “He’s not worth it.” Stiles whispers as he squeezes Derek arm. He’s pretty sure he hears an ‘awww’ from behind him.

“Oh, I’m mistaken,” Lance stands back up and mocks Derek, “Didn’t realize you were a pansy Alpha.”

Then before anyone knows what happens Lance in on the floor, blood beginning to drip from his nose. He looks around with a stunned express as Stiles stands over him, “Leave. Now.” Stiles snarls at him.

Lance looks like he is about to lunge when Derek leans down with a murderous look, “I’d do as he says.” He tells the enraged man, “before I share with Alpha Yourn how disrespectful you were to the Hale pack.” Lance’s face drains of what little color he has, making him look like a clown in the process. Derek continues with a vicious smile, “I’m sure she is going to be thrilled with you when she finds out you were attempting to take the heat of an underage girl.”  


Lance’s color goes green at Derek’s words. He scrambles back and lurches to his feet, “You have no proof,” he attempts to appear confident. but the illusion is ruined as he backs away from the group, “my mother would never believe lies from an obvious flawed Alpha.”

Derek sighs sadly, “I had thought your mother was exaggerating how stupid you were, but it seems she was actually way too kind.” Derek turns to Stiles, “I say we give him till the count of five before I call his mother.” 

Stiles laughs at the look of terror on Lance’s face as he turns tail and runs out of the center, “Dude, that was amazing.” He turns to the girls standing behind them, “You okay?” He asks the one who’d been the initial target.

She blushes as she pulls away from Debbie, “That was so fucking awesome! The way you deck him! Thank you!” She is practically bouncing in her excitement. 

Debbie smiles and rolls her eyes, “Forgive Morgan, she’s been dealing with Lance for weeks now. Although that was pretty sweet. I don’t think Lance knew what hit him.” 

Stiles lets out a bark of laughter as Derek chuckles in amusement. The girls don’t even realize the pun as they continue to bombard Stiles and Derek with questions. Stiles is more amused by Derek’s kind yet terse responses. He can see a bit of the man he’d been warned about. Thankfully, the girls hear their other friend calling out to them and are soon saying good-bye. Stiles feels his adrenaline crashing as he registers a small twinge of pain. He looks down and lets out a hiss.

“What’s wrong?” Derek is quick to settle Stiles down at their table as Stiles’ feel himself blanch.

“Derek, my knuckles are bloody,” he tells the ‘were in a small voice.

Derek picks up his hand, “it doesn’t smell like your blood,” Stiles is too woozy to question how Derek would know the smell of his blood. He watches as Derek grabs a few napkins and wipes at the blood. Derek lets out a relieved breath, “It’s not your blood.”

Stiles glances back at his hand and finds it cleaned of all blood and his skin unblemished, “That’s a relief,” he sighs as Derek’s thumb rubs a gentle circle on his palm, “I’d hate for you to see me pass out from blood loss after that kickass encounter.”

Derek lets out an exasperated huff as he sits back down, “I repeat my earlier assessment, you are a menace to society.”

“Only to stupid Alphas,” Stiles grumbles. He brightens as he notices the new tray of food, “Awww sourwolf! You got us more fries,” he lets out an obscene moan, “Ohhh funnel fries! Score!” He begins to pull the tray closer when a hand nabs it.

“You can have some of these,” Derek pulls the plate of funnel fries toward himself, “after you finally tell me what is going on at work.”

Stiles’ pout quickly turns into a glare, “you play dirty Derek,” and no he doesn’t giggle at that. A thought teases at the back of his mind about Derek’s name, but it is quickly forgotten as Derek shrugs while licking powder sugar off his fingers. “Ugh, why do you want to ruin our good time with that pile of rot and betrayal?!” Stiles grouse.

“Because, it upsets you and that upsets me,” he pauses as Stiles fights a grin, “mainly because if you are upset it is even hard to decipher what you are babbling about.” Derek gives Stiles a stern frown, but his eyes are alight with glee, “do you know how hard it is to weed through your jumbled stream of consciousness on a good day?”

Stiles throws a fry at Derek and is unsurprised when the wolf catches it, “Dude, you are such an ass.”

“Only to keep you from proposing again,” Derek mumbles absentmindedly as he chews another funnel fry.

“Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that Mr. Softie,” the look on Derek’s face is worth the fry that hits him on the nose. “Okay, fine, you win. sourwolf,” Stiles laughs before turning serious. “My best friend shacked up with an Alpha slut and her Alphaist family. So, of course, now he can’t be bothered to be a decent person and views all other dynamics as inferior. Now they’ve decided I am no longer useful and are claiming ownership of my company. Didn’t see it coming, but I guess I should have since he’s been MIA for months now.  Honestly, the worst part is he has no idea what the company does,” Stiles lets out a dry laugh, “he only works there to be the ‘Alpha in Charge.’  To make it worse, I think they are going to fire everyone who isn’t an Alpha. Also, side note, why is it okay for an Alpha to date any dynamic but if a Beta or [gasp] Omega tries to they are seen as deviant?” Stiles finishes with a groan, “I want to punch his face in, but he made vague threats to claim Omega disobedience,” Stiles doesn’t see the shocked look on Derek’s face as he plays with his napkin, “can’t believe I let that pompous ass talk me out of a contract.”

Derek schools his face back into mild irritation rather than the murder brows he’d sported at the mention of the Omega disobedience, “He can’t just take over like that,” he growls as Stiles seems to shrink into his chair more.

Letting out a heavy sigh, “Apparently there is a law still on the books they dug up. I haven’t really looked into it; I was more shocked by his elitist behavior and all the company emails he was sending. Who even does that?” Stiles feels a rant coming on, “I mean who would take the time to look up old laws, pretend they are company head, and not even have the common courtesy to talk to the real company head? Man, are all Alpha’s that narrowminded?” Stiles looks up sharply, “Present company excluded of course.” 

Derek waves a dismissive hand and Stiles relaxes, “Anyway, I left today and took all my stuff with me,” a positively evil smile spreads across his lips, “well, I took everything they might need that is. I’m not sure what to do, though. If I were in another state, I’d tell him to go fuck himself, but California still doesn’t recognize Omegas as equal citizens to Alphas.” Stiles tips his head back, “Unless I’m married to an Alpha I apparently don’t have legal rights to my own property.” He mutters darkly.

Derek stiffens at his words. He stares at Stiles for a long moment before his face turns into an expressionless mask, “I’m not sure what practical help I can offer you.” His voice is devoid of warmth, “the best I can do is direct you to my uncle. He specializes in Omega Rights,” Derek reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card, “here, I will confer with him about your case, and if he agrees I’ll send you his office address.” Derek doesn’t look at Stiles as he hands over the simple business card with his uncle’s name, profession, and a phone number. 

Stiles can only stare at the ‘were in shock. He’s not sure what happened, but something has caused Derek to completely close off. He can see the clench of his jaw and the spark of anger in the tilt of his eyebrows. What makes Stiles pause is the pain shining in his eyes. Before Stiles can say or do anything, Derek swipes everything onto his tray and abruptly stands, “I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten. I need to get back so I can talk to my uncle before he turns in for the night,” Stiles can only watch as Derek pulls further away, “I can catch an Uber, so you don’t have to worry about crossing town again at this time of night.” Derek dumps his tray and continues toward the front exit without so much as a ‘goodnight.’

“Derek! Wait!” Stiles jumps to his feet, his own mess forgotten as he runs after Derek. The wolf is already through the first set of doors as Stiles catches up to him, “Derek, what the hell!?” Stiles almost shouts, “what’s wrong?” Stiles reaches out but is saddened to see Derek shrink into himself.

“It’s late, and I have things to do. I’ll send you the address tomorrow with a meeting time. Goodnight.” Derek’s words sound as if he is forcing them out through clenched teeth. Stiles feels his heart stutter as Derek is gone. He rushes out the doors, but there is no sign of the wolf. The parking lot is empty except a few cars and his jeep.  
   
   
   
   
   
“Jackson! You are fired!” Stiles rages as he slams the front door. He grips the phone, willing himself not to throw the damn thing against the wall. He’s sent half a dozen texts to Derek without any reply. He doesn’t know what set off the Alpha, but right now, someone has to take the brunt of his anger.

“What happened?” Jackson’s voice lacks his usual airy confidence and snark. He doesn’t even attempt to joke with Stiles. 

“He ran out on me! Just got up and ran. He didn’t even wait for me to drive him back home. Ran right out the door. Took off like I was too grotesque to even be around for any longer,” Stiles fights off tears of anger and frustration. He’s always hated how he gets misty-eyed when he gets too upset, “I mean it was perfect Jackson, fucking perfect. Why did he leave?!” Stiles asks in defeat as he falls onto his bed. 

The line is quiet for a moment, then the sound of footsteps before a door is shut. Jackson’s voice sounds too loud for Stiles’ sadness, “Start at the beginning. Tell me everything so I can figure out exactly when you shoved your foot in your mouth.” 

Stiles almost laughs as Jackson gets right to the point; instead, he begins to tell him about the excellent start to his date. Jackson doesn’t say anything as Stiles recounts his first blunder, the first proposal, and the awkward skating. Other than a snort of laughter, he is surprisingly quiet as Stiles goes through his date, in almost excruciatingly painful detail. In fact, Jackson barely makes any noise until Stiles begins to tell him about his discussion about Scott and the betrayal. When Stiles mentions his observation about potential ways to be seen as more than just an Omega, Jackson sucks in air on a hiss.

“What? What happened?” Stiles asks in confusion.

“Please tell me you did not mention how you could improve your situation by marrying an Alpha?” Jackson inquires with a touch of frustration. Stiles can almost see him roll his eyes skyward with his lips in a thin line.

“Uhhhhh …” Stiles racks his brain, trying to remember precisely he said, “Yeah, pretty sure I did.” 

“OH, hell, Stiles!” Jackson’s exclaims with some anger, “You are a fucking moron!” 

“Hey! No name-calling the depressed Omega!” Stiles raises his own voice, “At least save it until after you explain your sudden anger. Freaken emotionally stunted men and their inability to share their thoughts and feelings,” Stiles mutters as Jackson growls.

“Stiles,” Jackson begins in a calmer voice, “think back to all the times you’ve overshared information about your talks with Derek.”

“Okay, umm, yeah that’s probably a few months worth of unwanted info-dumping. Wanna narrow it down a bit?” Stiles complaints.

“Ugh, you are such a pain,” Jackson tells him with a hint of fondness, “although you are going to hate yourself in a moment.”

A sinking feeling hits Stiles as he listens to Jackson, “You’ve mentioned numerous times that Derek has been used by previous paramours,” he pauses to let Stiles chuckle over his use of paramour, “and you have also told me he seems to have a low opinion of himself.” That sinking feeling gets worse as Stiles begins to see what happened. He doesn’t say anything as Jackson continues, “Now I know you were honestly trying to woo the guy with your marriage proposals, but mentioning the Alpha marriage bit might have made him think you only wanted him as a means to an end.”

“No …” Stiles whispers. His mind races through the night, he thinks back to all the conversation he’s had with Derek and the noticeable emotional scars the Alpha carries. He knows those scars are especially tied to Derek’s self-worth, something the Alpha never flat out said, but all the clues were there. Now Stiles remembers the pain Derek tried to hide as Stiles rambled on about marrying an Alpha.

“Fuck!” He exclaims and slaps a hand to his face, “how could he even think I was only seeing him for his Alpha status? I’ve been flirting with him since before I knew how freaken smokin’ hot he is. Also, he was the one to invite me out tonight!” Stiles feels himself spiraling out but is too upset to care.

“STILES!” Jackson shouts, “None of that matters now!” Stiles’ words dry up in his throat at Jackson’s almost sad tone. Stiles listens as Jackson swallows and lets out a sigh, “It doesn’t matter who asked whom, what he looks like, or even your actual intentions. All Derek heard was you saying needing an Alpha to improve your situation. To him, you were stating he was useful to you. He probably couldn’t even understand what you saw in him until that moment. Then all his fears were confirmed.”

“That just crazy,” Stiles runs an agitated hand through his hair, “he wouldn’t think so lowly of himself.”

Jackson lets out a bitter laugh, “When you only see yourself as a pretty body for other’s use it isn’t surprising how low your self-esteem can drop,” Jackson swallows again, “and I hate to tell you man, but as someone who’s been in that mindset, it hurts when the person who you thought would be different proves you wrong.”

Stiles is quiet as he mulls over what Jackson’s shared. It pains him, but he knows it took Jackson years to realize his own worth. Could Jackson be right about Derek? Could the Alpha really think Stiles only wanted him because he could add to Stiles’ status? Of course, he could. His previous relationships, if they could be called that, all ended once he realized they were using him. Hell, Stiles knows this, it’s why he was trying not to ogle him all night and why he wanted Derek to relax and have fun. 

“Fuck, fuckle, fuck it all. FUCK!” Stiles pulls at his hair as he sits up, “I need to call him. Explain to him how wonderful, amazing, and how I don’t want to marry him. I do want to marry him. I want to marry him because he’s Derek. Not because he is an Alpha. I don’t care that he is an Alpha, in fact, part of he loves that little bit of information. I’d like him just as much if he was a Beta or an Omega. He can’t go on thinking I only want to use him. I mean how can I let him think that when-“

“STILES! NO!” Jackson barks out. He continues in a quieter voice once he hears Stiles stop, “you are in no shape to have a coherent conversation tonight.”

“No, I need to-“

Jackson cuts him off again, “The only thing you need to do is get some sleep. You can call him in the morning when you are both calmer. Trust me on this and give him time to realize he overreacted.”

Stiles chews on his lip, “Fine,’ he finally agrees, “but I don’t like this.”

Jackson laughs, “didn’t think you would, but this is what happens when you fall for a guy with baggage.”

“Watch it, Whittemore, that’s my future husband you are bad-mouthing,” Stiles growls out.

“Geezus Stilinski, that kind of talk is what got you into this mess,” Jackson laughs, “I can’t wait to tell Lydia about this.”

Stiles groans as he settles in for a night of razing from his friends; then as he listens to Jackson’s griping about missing Danny’s coffee, he thanks every God he can think of he has them in his life.  
   
 

 

“Then he gets this look on his face, I swear Cora if anyone ever looks at me that way, I can’t be responsible for the public indecency charges. Ugh, I mean he freaken proposes.”

“NO?! What?! Did Derek say yes?!” Cora squeals as Laura sets the laptop down on the coffee table. 

She’d been snooping through Derek’s kitchen, making sure the man had food, as she filled Cora in on the about Derek’s date. She immediately texted her younger sister as soon as Derek left, but Cora had been in class. Laura had then called Peter to fill him in on the latest development. Which resulted in him joining her at Derek’s to wait for his return. Cora Skyped them as soon as she got back to her dorm. 

“I think our Der-bear is in for a world of chaos with this one,” Laura settles back on the couch with his hidden stash of Thin Mints. When would that wolf learn she knew all his hiding spots, “I mean, Stiles was nothing but happiness and sunshine as soon as he spotted the grump.”

“AWWW! I knew he was going to be perfect for Der! How could he not with how much Derek talks about him?!” 

“Ugh, he was worse than when you first met Chase,” Laura groans, “I swear if he went another week pinning over Stiles, I was going to hack his phone and set up a meeting.”

Cora and Peter both nod in agreement. Then Cora asks the big question, “how did their scents mix?”

Laura passes the box of cookies to Peter as she closes her eyes, “Stiles smelled of ginger and mint, and you know Derek always smells of old books, cloves, and citrus,” She smiles, “they actually blended together really nicely. My wolf thinks they are perfect together.” 

Cora lets out a happy little scream at this; Laura joins in as they laugh over Derek’s new romance.

Peter rolls his eyes at the two of them, “Girls, please. My eardrums are still ringing from that first shriek of laughter over the ‘pretty alpha’ comment.” He drawls as the girls begin to screech with laughter again. He then laments, “Remus save me from female gossip.”

A pillow smacks him in the face as Laura scolds him, “Don’t even pretend you aren’t just as happy to see our grumpy-faced pup find love,” She tosses her hair and shares a smirk with Cora, “besides you invited yourself over when I said I was waiting up for him.”

“The creepy uncle doth protest too much,” Cora chimes in with a snicker.

“Shouldn’t you be studying for finals little wolf? I am only paying out for A this last semester,” He huffs as the girls ignore his bluster.

“So, Laura,” Cora has her serious face on, “Is this guy good enough for our Derek?” 

“As far as I can tell, he seems like a decent guy.” Laura snags a cookie from the box, “I think it’s great that he was confident but so so sooooo weird. Might help Derek break out of that shell he’s built.”

Cora nods in agreement as Peter mutters, “I had him check out; other than a very unfavorable acquaintance, he is a perfectly respectable and upstanding Omega.”

Both girls turn to Peter with matching looks of disbelief and mild shock. He returns a haughty look as he sniffs, “What? You didn’t expect me to let some stranger take out my nephew without looking into him. I refuse to let Derek get hurt again.”

“The is the sweetest,” Cora begins.

“and creepiest,” Laura adds.

“thing you’ve ever done,” Cora finishes with a little sigh. “We’re onto you uncle.” She tells him with a wink.

“I’ll skin you alive and use your pelt as my new area rug if that ever gets out,” Peter deadpans.

Cora’s eyes go wide before she turns back to Laura. Laura gives her a shrug, “It’s almost as good as the threat he made when you found his,” she lowers her voice and stage whispers, “unmentionables.”

They burst into more laughter as Peter hides a smile with a bite into his cookie. Their laughter quickly dies off as they hear a key in the front door. Laura hops off the couch and picks up the laptop, “Let’s find out when the wedding is!” She exclaims as she walks to the door.

She stops suddenly as Derek’s scent reaches her. It is nothing but sadness, anger, and enough despair to choke her. Cora, unable to smell anything through the computer screen, calls out, “Hey loser! When ya getting hitched!”

Derek’s stony face turns toward them. Cora’s laughter cuts off as she swallows a gasp. Laura looks over her brother for some clue for his horrible mood. Peter stands up from the couch but doesn’t approach.

“Derek?” Laura raises a hand toward him.

“Don’t.” He snaps.

“Pup,” Peter quietly calls from his spot by the couch, “what happened?”

Derek stands by the door, his shoulder tight and jaw clenched, “Nothing.”

He stalks away from the door, heading toward his bedroom while ignoring everyone’s puzzled looks. 

“Derek,” Laura tries again, “talk to us. Did something happen to Stiles?”

“No.” He practically snarls as he turns toward Laura with an enraged look, one that does very little to hide the pain in his eyes from his family, “There is nothing to talk about. I’m going to bed.” He turns his back on them, “You can let yourself out.” With that, he enters his room and closes the door. The click of the lock is loud in the eerily quiet apartment.

Laura and Peter exchange a look, Laura gives a sharp nod as Peter sighs. They move around the apartment and clean up their little party. Laura turns the computer back around, “Cora, I’m going to hang up now. I’ll fill you in as soon as we know what is going on with him.”

Cora arches a brow, “You are going to poke the bear tonight?”

“Fuck no, we are running like rabbits and coming back in the morning with coffee and his favorite croissant,” Laura whispers to her sister as Peter places the pillows back on the couch. 

“Genius let me know if I need to come to help bury a body,” Cora tells them as she signs out. 

Laura scans the apartment to make sure they cleaned up everything, turning to Peter she rubs a hand over her forehead, “Gods you don’t think Stiles did something we are going to have to kill him for?” Laura asks as they move to the door, “I really like the spaz and don’t want to have to murder him for hurting my brother.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Don’t plan murder when a conversation is much easier and less messy.” 

This time it is Laura who rolls her eyes, hard enough to hurt, “Not sure conversation will be easy when it comes to Derek.”

Peter hums in agreement, “True, we might want to pick up some strawberries as well, he did always respond well to positive reinforcement.”

They lapse into silence as they ride the elevator down to the lobby. Walking outside, Laura stops and turns to Peter with a sharp-toothed smile, “You know,” she begins, “if you looked up Stiles, then you know where he lives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to stop right after Derek walked out, but didn't want people hating him. 
> 
> So, awkward question time: Thoughts on having knotting and/or heat sex? It would all be consensual although, it would also probably be really awkward but sweet.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my mistakes.

It is entirely too late to be drinking anything with caffeine unless the plan was to stay up fretting all night. Which is why Stiles only had one Red Bull. He has self-control; he won’t make a pot of coffee. Nope, he’s going to clean out his room, not text Derek, and not make a pot of coffee. The willpower is strong within him, he can resist temptations. Yup, it is perfectly reasonable to alternatingly stare at the coffee pot and his cell phone. He did it every day. 

Stiles groans and gently drops his phone to the counter. He really only has enough willpower to resist one temptation. Stiles fills up the carafe with filtered water and pulls out the grinder. Since he promised not to call Derek, it is time to make some coffee. Then he could clean his room, reorganize his bathroom, add in a new safeguard for his program, start Assgent/McCoward takedown, and not text Derek.  Good thing he already planned to work from home tomorrow.

He didn’t want his newest project on a computer linked to the company network, but he also needed a link for his other project. This is why he doesn’t like to bring work home; too many plans for the one desktop he has in his apartment. Good thing he thought to bring home his work laptop and the data sticks, without them, he would have to start from fresh. Now instead of worrying about starting over; he only needs to do is rewrite a section of the new code. 

Stiles wonders how much time he has to update his virus protection on his company laptop. Letting out a snicker, Stiles thinks that if Scott were left to his own devices, the flash drive would never be found. Allison, on the other hand, she is a sneakily, observant person. Chewing his lip, he meanders over to his computer station, he might not have as much time as he calculated initially. He’ll have to do a system update from home and hope the remote access works tonight for phase one of the takedown. 

A knock at the door startles him as he shifts through the drives and papers, he brought home from the office. A glance at the clock shows him it is nearing eleven-thirty, who would be visiting him this late. Dread coats his insides, crap Jackson, tattled to Lydia! Another knock, this one sharper and louder, comes from his front door, then muffled voices sound like they are arguing. Double crap, she got Chris to go with her. Stiles walks to the door as the knocking gets louder, well at least he already has a pot of coffee brewing.

“I don’t know what Jackson told you guys,” Stiles calls out as he turns the deadbolt, “but I only asked twi-”

Stiles’ words die in his throat as he looks out the open door, “You’re not Lydia and Chris,” he tells the pair standing in his doorway.

They share a glance before turning a not so friendly look at him, complete with murder brows and flashing eyes. The shift in eye color lets him know they are wolves, and the murder brows have to be a family trait. Being ridiculously good looking has to be another family trait. 

“Eep!” Stiles maturely says in response to the looks, “So uh, you must be Derek’s sister, Laura” he looks over the now-familiar woman then turns to the smirking man next to her, “and you must be his skeevy uncle, Peter?”

The woman’s eyes widen before she lets out a laugh, “Looks, brains, and a sense of humor? It is going to be a real shame if I have to kill you.” 

Stiles’ eyes feel like they are going to pop out of his head at her words. She uttered them in such a blasé tone, but the look in her eyes was downright chilling. 

The man lets out a dramatic little sigh before making letting out a quiet ‘tsk,’ “Laura, don’t scare the poor boy until after we actually talk to him,” he regards Stiles with a relaxed smile.

Looking between the two Stiles feels as if he’s entered a carnival funhouse, “Oh gods, you’re playing the good guy?!” He blurts out to the man in disbelief. “I’m doomed!”

The man shrugs, “I can always play the bad guy with you later,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

Stiles gives him a disapproving look, “Mind dialing back the creepiness until after I invite you in? Can’t be known as the freak who invites a creepy old man into his apartment at all hours of the night.” He tosses that last part out as Laura and Peter pass him into the apartment.

“You are a feisty one,” Peter leers as Laura rolls her eyes.

Stiles crosses his arms and glares at the older man, “Dude, hate to break it to you, but I already know your secret.”

Peter arches a brow, “Oh? And what pray tell is that?”

Stiles gives him a big smile, “Just that you are all ‘huff and puff’ but no ‘blow your house down.’”

Peter glares at Stiles, “Laura, he’s offended me. I demand as my pack Alpha you make him acknowledge Omega wolf honor rights.” Peter calls out to Laura, an obviously fake pout coloring his voice. 

Laura is busy looking over Stiles’ apartment. She glances back at the pair and lets out a huff of laughter before she walks over and smacks the back of Peter’s head, “Peter if I had to do Omega honor rights for everyone whose offended you, I’d never have a moment’s peace. Now let’s pretend we are reasonable adults and discuss with Stiles why we’ve barged into his den.” She gives Stiles a small smile, “It is okay if we call you Stiles?”

“Uh… yeah, sure?” Stiles is a little thrown by the change in mood. Things suddenly seem dangerous as Peter gives her a sharp nod and turns back toward Stiles with a blank expression. “I just made a pot of coffee; would either of you like some?” Despite the oddity of the visit, Stiles feels the need to be seen as a good host. He moves to the kitchen after both ‘weres voice their acceptance of the beverage. 

“As you’ve probably already determined we are here to find out what happened tonight to turn Derek into his ‘moody teenager’ persona,” Laura primly sits down on the couch with a calm look on her face that does nothing to lessen the fear Stiles feels.

“If you could be a dear and enlighten us about the sequence of events during your date, then we can establish the best course of action for you and our grumpywolf,” Peter tells him as he sits on the couch next to his niece.

Stiles comes back into the living room with a tray of mugs and a plate of cookies, Martha Stewart eat your heart out, “I prefer sourwolf,” he mutters absentmindedly as he set the tray down on the table, completely missing the shared look between his guests. “Pretty sure I know what happened,” he settles into his chair before adding, “although, not sure why it was such a horrible thing. I mean if our positions were reversed, I’d understand not wanting to be considered only an extension of your spouse, but he’d be the socially acceptable partner.” 

Stiles takes a sip of coffee which doesn’t even seem to slow his words down, “Sure, maybe I freaked him out by punching that idiot Alpha, but come on the guy was asking for it,” Stiles is in full babble mode and unaware of the amused expressions directed his way, “So maybe I’d be a terrible partner, definitely know I’d be seen as ‘unruly’ which might bring down his status, but Derek doesn’t seem like the type to care if an Omega doesn’t meet standards.” Stiles slumps back in his chair with a sound of annoyance.

Laura, quick to speak up in the brief moment of silence, “You took back your marriage proposal?”

Stiles makes a choked off sounds as he snorts a bit of his drink, before he replies in a strangled voice, “hell no, asked him again actually,” he coughs a few times then continues in a more normal tone, “I mentioned getting married to have an Alpha who would help my legal standings.”

Laura gives him a confused look, “So, he refused your proposal?”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “If running away without a word is his way of refusing.”

“He just ran out?” Laura leans forward with her little outburst. Her face shows her shock and slight outrage, “He wouldn’t leave you as an unattended Omega,”

“Huh, yeah. Didn’t even think of that,” Stiles rubs at the back of his neck, “Stupid how if I’m seen with an Alpha, I’m automatically their property, yet if I’m by myself, to begin with, then I run the risk of being claimed.” Stiles glares at his mug, “great now I need to worry if I’ll be charged for being an unescorted Omega.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Peter chimes in, “people very rarely even acknowledge that law unless they are a desperate Alpha in rut.” He gets a wicked smile, “besides, I know a few workarounds.”

Stiles stares at the other Omega with a new interest, “remind me to pick your brain later.”

Peter only arches a brow and gives a minute nod. Laura has a pensive look on her face, she rubs a hand over her lower lip and begins to speak, “Back to the issue at hand, Derek did say anything to you about why he was upset?”

Stiles doesn’t get a chance to answer as Peter lets out a derisive snort, “Derek, talk about his feelings? My dear Alpha, have you forgotten who we are talking about?”

Laura gives Peter a light shove, “He’s gotten better since you found that new therapist,” she stops and offers Stiles a pensive look then she looks guiltily toward Peter. He catches the glimpse and also gives Stiles a glance. Then just as he’s starting to feel like a bug under their microscope, Laura changes the subject, “Why would Omega marriage rights cause him to flee? He’s never seemed to concern about dynamics or marriage.”

Peter lets out a pain-filled breath. His face is pinched in annoyance and anger, Stiles unconsciously leans away from the Omega. Laura places a gentle hand on Peters’s shoulder, fingers just brushing his neck. This seems to pull him from the dark thoughts as a small shiver goes through him. Tilting his head back and regarding the ceiling, he begins to speak in a soft voice, “Derek’s had to overcome a few obstacles in his youth. Ones that have left lasting scars,” he gives Laura a sad smile, “you were away at college when your mom decided his future.” 

Stiles gives the pair a puzzled look but keeps quiet as Laura asks, “Decided his future? But he was only 13 when I left for college. Being a ‘were on top of that, it that emotionally places him at a few years younger.” She stops and rubs at her lips again, then her hand drops to her lap, “Oh, please tell me she didn’t?!”

Peter only gives her another sad look before staring down at his feet. Stiles feels confused and frustrated as he only seems to understand part of the conversation. Annoyed, he snaps, “Can someone fill me in on what you are talking about?” He belatedly adds, “please?”

Both wolves seem surprised to find Stiles staring at them. Twin guilty expressions cross the two faces before him as Stiles watches a silent conversation happens in a matter of seconds. Laura lets out a low growl as she inclines her head toward Peter. He purses his lips but faces Stiles fully, “As much as we would be love to completely clear up this little miscommunication, we can’t.” He sighs and holds up a hand as Stiles begins to argue, “It is not our story to tell, and we won’t break Derek’s hard-earned trust by telling you what is rightfully his to share.” At the look on Stiles’ face, Peter continues, “I can say that wasn’t your fault, and if he ran away, it means that he cares for you.” 

Silence follows his words as Stiles process things. He is pissed they won’t tell him exactly what happened. He’s even more pissed that Derek doesn’t trust him. Despite what Peter’s said, Derek running away only means one thing, he doesn’t trust Stiles.

“I understand,” he tells them.

“I’m not sure you really do,” Laura speaks up as her nose twitches, “I’m not sure I can even understand,” she seems weary as she gets to her feet, “I’m sorry we intruded on your den like this.” She places her mug back on the tray, “Give Derek some time, he might surprise you and realize his mistake,” She tells him with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

Peter remains seated as Laura seems in the process of leaving. She arches a brow at him, he only shakes his head in refusal while winking at Stiles, “Mr. Stilinski and I have some business to attend to now.”

“Really?” Laura inquires with an incredulous stare, “What business could you possibly have with Stiles after just meeting?”

“Business that will make us all very happy in the hopefully near future,” Peter tells her with a shrug, “I will see you at the office, my dear.” 

Laura raises a brow in question as she catches Stiles’ gaze. He looks over at the other Omega who’s making himself comfortable on the sofa. He shrugs and stands up, “Is it worth it to argue with him?”

Laura lets out a real laugh, “No, but give me your phone,” Stiles walks to the kitchen with the Alpha and unlocks his phone for Laura, “I’m putting in my personal number. If he gets uppity, give me a call, and I’ll deal with him.” 

Stiles only nods as Laura hands him back the phone. She places a hand on his shoulder with a light. She takes her hand away quick enough that Stiles isn’t sure it even happened. He follows her toward his front door, “Derek will come around, just give him some time to pull his head from his backside,” Laura tells him as Stiles opens the door for her; he gives a small nod of acknowledgment, “Behave Peter!” She calls out in a voice that Stiles can feel.

“Remus save me from meddling Alphas,” Peter groans from his sprawled position.

“Will he also save me from meddling Omegas?” Stiles mutters as he flops back into his chair.

“Oh, you wouldn’t want him to do that,” Peter tells him with a grin.

“Why? Because he only aids ‘weres?” Stiles picks up his mug with a sigh.

“Oh no, I simply meant you are going to want me to meddle,” Peter’s grin widens as his eyes flash blue.

“Stiles takes a sip of his now cold coffee before asking, “Is that so?”

“Without a doubt,” the smirk Peter has is positively devilish. He sits up, moves closer to Stiles’ chair and in a voice smooth enough to slip on says, “I hear you an Argent problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? I know Derek seemed to really over-react the last chapter, but there are reasons and a story behind his actions. Tune in next time to find out what Stiles and Peter plan. 
> 
> Kudos and comments feed the muse. :) Lazy thing that it is.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles regards the Omega in front of him, “What would you know about the Argents or my business with them?” 

Peter relaxes back into the couch, feet crossed at the ankle and his poster the picture of unaffected, “I know lots, when it comes to my family, I make sure I have all the information needed to protect them.” 

Peter’s voice goes soft at the end, it makes Stiles pause and consider the man sitting in front of him. There is a lot he is missing, things he’s been told only Derek will be able to explain him. Then again, he remembers all the stories Derek has shared about his family, his uncle. Despite the man’s ‘bad touch’ persona, it is all an elaborated act. Sure, he might really be a bit of a perv, but he also took care of Derek and Laura. 

Rubbing a hand through his hair, Stiles stands up and moves toward the kitchen. Peter remains in his relaxed sprawl; Stiles wouldn’t have seen the tensing of his muscles if he hadn’t been looking for it. He’s already decided Peter is a person he can trust, not sure what that says about himself, but anyone who dropped their own life to take care of their family can’t be all bad. Just not someone to ever take home to his father. Stiles snorts out a laugh as he sets about making a fresh pot of coffee.

“I get the feeling we are going to need more coffee for this conversation,” He calls out to the living room, then quietly adds, “I’m going to need this coffee if I’m staying up with you.” Stiles turns around and nearly shrieks as he jumps back away from a grinning Peter, “you need a freaken bell! My heart is but a fragile thing.” Stiles leans against the counter as he catches his breath. 

“That’s too bad,” Peter tells him with a sad sigh, he’s busy with his phone as he continues, “Not sure we can have as much fun if you have a … delicate heart.” Peter leers while still messing around with his phone.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “How about we skip the creeper bs, and you tell me why you are still in my apartment.” 

Peter seems to finish with his phone and slides the device into a back pocket with a grin, “My you are something, aren’t you?” Peter just laughs as Stiles gives him a deadpan glare, “Oh fine, have it your way. I only want to know your intentions and desires in regards to the hostile take-over you are experiencing. Do you plan to fight the claim that you are an unfit business owner? Come tell Uncle Peter all about your Argent infestation.”

Stiles purses his lips as he picks up the fresh pot of coffee and takes it back to the living room. He is mildly amused by Peter, not that he’ll ever admit that to the other man. He finds him already on the couch, holding up his mug for more coffee. Stiles pours them each a serving and curls up in his chair, breathing in the steam from his cup. Thinking over the problem, Stiles knows what his intentions are, but what does he really want? He knows _Triple S_ won’t be anything like it once was, even after just a day. His little present will make sure of that. 

The thing is Stiles feels a small twinge of annoyance his company has been taken over, but that isn’t his biggest concern. He feels anger heat his face as he thinks about someone taking his codes. His main reason for starting the company had always been, so Stiles had a safe place to code and work on new data. So, although he lost his safe place, his real babies are still protected. His enjoyment of having _Triple S_ stems from two reasons. 1. He got to do what he loved without worry and 2. He could hire decent, hardworking Betas and Omegas. Besides, he never wanted to run the company, that is why he hired Lydia and Chris. They were the ones in charge, at least they had been until that morning. Another loss for the company when the Betas hand in their notices. 

Honestly, since he took all his laptops, drives, and notes with him, there really isn’t much to the current _Triple S_ , other than a building. One not even in Stiles’ name. A small laugh escapes him with that thought. Just wait till they meet the owner. Okay, so he has his company with him in everything except name, but now what? 

“I want Scott in ruins.” The words come out before the thought is even formed. Stiles feels the truth to them as Peter makes a noise of agreement. “I want Scott to lose it all. He needs to find out what it’s like for the world to view him as a pathetic waste of an Alpha.” Stiles is warming to his thoughts of destruction and graveling, “He’ not only going to eat crow, but he’ll have to kiss my ass to even consider getting himself out of the cesspit I’ll leave him in.” Stiles stretches out and feels some tense leave him as his mind begins to plan how he is going to abolish _Triple S_.

“And the Argents?” Peter’s voice is filled with false calm, just like his attempt at appearing relaxed.

“They’ll be right there with him. In fact, they won’t ever be seen as anything other than trash,” Stiles tells him with a wicked gleam in his eyes. “If I had it my way, they would not only be financially ruined, but their ties to the Alpha First and Last movement would come to light, tarnishing their image forever.” 

Peter sits up at this confession. His eyes glow bright blue for a moment, and his teeth look a little sharp, “Ah, but that is why you want my involvement,” his grin is positively evil but it has Stiles leaning forward in excitement, “You are a bright and capable young man, and I have no doubt you have a plan in place for your previous business dealings?”

Stiles stands up and walks over to his desk, where he keeps all his projects. Not even pausing to consider he is about to share one of his biggest secrets with someone he just met. There is some odd connection to Peter, one Stiles has a feeling what it means, but doesn’t want to get his hopes up. Instead, he opens a drawer and pulls out a file before returning to his seat. Handing over the record, he shifts awkwardly as Peter glances at the name tab, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. Peter skims through the papers, and his eyes go wide, “My, my, it seems someone has been busy.”

Stiles shrugs but feels the tension leave him, “A couple of months ago, I got this thought about what would happen if _Triple S_ was taken away from me. Sure, Omega rights seemed to be gaining momentum, but the thought nagged at me. So, I came up with that little plan. Never thought I’d actually have to use it.”

Peter whistles as he hands the file back over. A wicked smirk graces his lips, “I can see you have everything under control for the time being. I believe you’ve set enough in motion I’ll have plenty of time to get my part situated,” he glances at his watch before pulling out a cardholder, “also, you have an appointment tomorrow at 10 am. The boss is not one to be kept waiting, do not be late.”  
Stiles takes the card, “Why is everyone handing me business cards?” He glances down at it and finds it the same one from Chris and Derek. He stares at it a moment. A long distant memory tickles the back of his mind. He vaguely hears Peter talking as the memory clicks into place. His face pales, “Shit, Derek is the _Boy in the Basement_ , isn’t he?”

Time stops as the room goes deadly quiet. Then Peter is wolfed out with a clawed hand gripping his shirt, “Where did you hear that name?” His voice is at oddly collected compared to the savage look in his eyes. 

Stiles for the first time that night feels fear as he looks into Peter’s glowing eyes. He swallows a few times before speaking, “My dad is the sheriff.” 

With those few words, the entire room seems to let out a relieved sigh. Peter looks mildly embarrassed as he lets go of Stiles’ shirt and steps back. His features melting back to his human face, “Your father is a good man,” Stiles can only nod his head. The words feel heavy with unspoken meaning, “Forgive my – brashness. As you can imagine that is a touchy subject,” Peter pauses as he straightens Stiles shirt before his own. He looks at Stiles with a grim expression. “No one outside of this room, and your father knows about what happened with Derek. I trust that won’t change?” Despite it being worded as a question, Stiles knows it is more a recognition of Stiles’ understanding of the need for complete discretion. 

Stiles nods, “You have my word,” Peter gives him a terse nod. 

The older Omega seems to be trying to gain back some semblance of his aloof persona. Stiles can understand the need to find a firmer footing. He can now see why Peter is so protective of Derek, and why Derek might be more than a little apprehensive. Stiles drops the file with the business card on his desk. He finds the need to move around as his thoughts clamor and twist around in his head. He picks up the mostly empty coffee carafe and the plate of crumbs.

Peter watches him with an appraising look, “You are a surprisingly level-headed and mature Omega. You’ve taken everything thrown at you today and yet you still only smell of mild anxiety, excitement and a touch of confusion. You’d make a magnificent wolf.”

Stiles stops in his tracks and looks back at Peter. The other man is looking at him with a stern yet pleased expression, one that shows he means every word. Stiles dips his head in acknowledgment of the compliment, “I am happy with my human status, but thank you.” He doesn’t want to say more than that for fear he’ll mess up the moment. There is no greater honor a wolf can pay a human than the one Peter just gave. 

“Understood, but that offer will be open indefinitely,” Peter tells him as Stiles enters the small kitchen. That has Stiles sucking in air through his teeth. That is an offer only made to humans mated to wolves or a human born to or adopted into a pack. Stiles doesn’t know how to respond to such an offer. An offer he knows is both an attempted to show the Hale Pack’s acceptance of him while also an acknowledgment of his future place in the pack. 

It is a lot more than he expected after one date and family interrogation. Then again, the Hales don’t seem to be the norm. Their second in command is an Omega, and more than a few pack members aren’t wolves. Which is probably one of the reasons Stiles is almost excited about his meeting with Laura tomorrow. He can also see why Chris would want to join. He glances back at Peter, who is busy typing away on his phone, and wonders if the rumors are true about his shared past with Chris. 

Peter lets out a snort and meets Stiles’ eyes, “As much as I’d love to answer all the questions you’ve no doubt thought up during your long walk to the kitchen, I must be saying my good-byes. It is late, and you have crucial things to accomplish in the next few days.” Peter gives an exaggerated wink before going back to the phone in his hands.

Stiles rolls his eyes, somehow already immune to the bad wordplay. He’s about to respond when he looks at the phone in Peter’s hands, his phone in Peter’s hands.

“Dude! What the hell?” Stiles stomps over, “we have not reached the level of bromance for you to be playing around with my phone.” Stiles huffs and tries to take the phone back. 

Peter surprisingly gives it back to him without a fight, glancing down Stiles notices his lock screen, “You computer people have entirely too much security for your phones.” Peter sighs, “Makes it dreadfully bothersome when trying to show you my appreciate and offer an olive branch.”

Stiles burst out laughing, between the wistful sigh and smooth voice Peter is the epitome of concern. “Didn’t realize you snooping would be beneficial to me, and you already offered such a huge branch.”

“Well, well, Mr. Stilinski, your interest in my branch is … an unexpected surprise.” Peter’s voice is low and sinful.

Stiles oddly enough feels more comfortable with Peter’s lecherous old man façade. It is easier to deal with than the pack’s right hand or Derek’s concerned and overprotective uncle. He responds; accordingly, he flips off Peter. 

Peter ignores him and continues, “I don’t need to ‘snoop,’” Peter practically sneers before brightening, “People usually just tell me what I want to know.” His smile is so wolfish that Stiles is surprised his eyes are still human. “No, I was simply trying to determine how long it was since your last communication to my nephew.”

“Why would you want to know that?” Stiles asks with a frown.

Peter rolls his eyes with a put upon sigh, “To make up for Laura and I barging into your den tonight.” It looks like that almost hurt for him to say. Stiles wisely stays quiet, “I’m sure you’ve been told to give Derek space.” Peter arches a brow, Stiles gives him a shrug before nodding. “You deserve more than just an offer to aid in your revenge and some gratitude; plus my nephew is completely enamored with you. So, what I am about to tell you is something that must never leave this room.” Peter tells him in a mild voice while giving him a searching look. He seems to find what he is looking for and continues, “Never listen to Derek when he pushes you away.” Stiles almost steps back at the forcefulness of Peter’s words, “He’s an incredibly caring, yet emotionally stunted Alpha. You leave him alone with his thoughts after a misunderstanding, and he’ll be finding a way to fix your problem while making sure you don’t have to deal with him.”

“Deal with him?!” Stiles angrily cuts in, “I don’t want him to fix my problems. I just want him to trust me. Okay, maybe I wouldn’t mind a kiss. Fine, a few kisses, or hugs I can do hugs. Or some cuddling, he looks like a good cuddle buddy. Ohhh, naked cuddling. Kissing and naked cuddling …” Stiles trails off when he remembers he’s not along, and it is possible too soon to be mentioning his obsession with naked cuddling. He lets out a fake cough before sighing, “Look, we’re both Omega’s and I don’t know about you, but most of the time I love that fact,” Peter gives him a nod of agreement, “The times I don’t love it are when it comes to Knotheaded-Alphas or when I am forced to follow some rule the new government has yet to change. But being with Derek, none of that mattered. Since I first started talking to him, I’ve never once thought about our dynamics.” 

Stiles shifts and walks back to the living room to curl up in his chair. Peter follows him but doesn’t interrupt, “Hell, I proposed to him twice without remember that is something I’ve only gained the right to do in the last two years,” Peter twirls a lazy hand in a salute, “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t know the whole story, but I know I still want to try to work things out with Derek.”

Peter is quiet as he nibbles on a cookie (no idea where he got it from), his eyes are bright, and a smile is threatening to ruin his aloof demeanor, “If you weren’t already spoken for, I’d propose to you myself,” Peter winks at him. Then he straightens in his seat, “Text that fool until he responses. Annoy the shit out of him until you provoke a response then make plans for breakfast at Markel’s. When you see him tell him what you just told me. Maybe minus the naked cuddling, at least till your third date. I get the feeling he’ll not hold out on keeping quiet about his demons for much longer.” Peter raises to his feet with a firm look directed at Stiles, “Don’t give me that look and just do it. Now.”

Stiles’ thumb hovers over his phone as he takes in the Omega standing before him. Peter has said his piece and is shoving his own phone into his coat pocket with a look of finality. Stiles isn’t sure exactly why he’s listed to Peter all night, but his gut is telling him to do it again. Swiping his thumb across the screen, he opens his conversation with Derek.

**Stiles[11:21]: …**

He hesitates for a moment before saying a silent screw it and composing a message.

**Stiles[11:22]: did you know that some animals are allergic to humans? Well more like their soap or perfume. You might know this since your nose wrinkled all night when that one employee with the ax body spray walked by**

There. He’ll just send a text every so often until Derek responded.

“Now,” Peter sits up with a clap of his hands, “come say good-night to Uncle Peter.”

Stiles is incredibly glad he is sitting down; otherwise, he might have fallen down laughing. He does walk a grumbling Peter to the door. Shutting the door, Stiles leans against it with a groan. He’s making a long list of the things he now needs to get done, including letting his father know he might be joining a new pack. His father is going to be so hard to be around after breaking that news, he’s been after Stiles for almost a year to leave Scott’s pack. Stiles can just picture the ‘I told you so’ look his dad is going to wear for the next few weeks. He smiles and thinks it is so worth it. 

His phone beeps from his chair, and Stiles gets a brief flash of hope: Derek. Then he remembers that the other man wasn’t involved in all the chaos at Stiles’ de - apartment and was most likely still thinking the worst. Walking over to the phone, Stiles wonders if it is Jackson or possibly Lydia bothering him about his date this late. Jackson is his guess, making sure Stiles had calmed down and was still okay. Picking up the phone, he clicks on the screen, and a huge smile breaks across his face.

 

 

Derek is an idiot. A big, dumb idiot. His logical brain his practically yelling at him while giving the most disapproving glare. His heart is joining in with a few choice words: coward, over-reacting, idiot. He tries to block the image out as he buries himself under the mound of blankets, he’s turned into his little pity nest. He almost wishes Laura and Peter had tried harder instead of listening to his words. He turns over and pulls one of the pillows closer with a groan. He is entirely too old and semi-well adjusted to be acting like a teenager. He only shoves his face in the pillow, that pep talk didn’t work. He might actually have to talk with his therapist about emotional safe words again. That is a conversation he’s sure will only make him feel even worse about his behavior tonight. 

The sound of his front door opening and closing pulls him from his morose thoughts. He listens from under his mountain to the soft footsteps, so not Peter or Laura. They’d be stomping their way around, just to see if they could annoy him into emerging. His bedroom door opens, even though he’d locked it. He knows exactly who his interloper is, even if he didn’t feel the hairs on his arm raise with the static filling the room. The feeling quickly dissipates as the side of his mattress dips slightly.

“I really hope you have pants on this time,” Kira’s soft voice is firm. “Your ass is like a block of ice; one I don’t want to be reintroduced to.”

Derek huffs out a laugh as he scoots over to let Kira burrow into his little nest, “It’s not my fault you were wearing a crop top and shorts.” He grumbles, “How was I to know you were going to play big spoon?” 

“Kira wiggles her way under, “You forget the BFF agreement we made at Erica’s 22nd birthday. Rule 4: person in need of comfort is always the little spoon. Drunk you was very adamant about that rule,” She swipes her hair away from her face as she steals Derek’s pillow, “now turn around and accept my damn comfort before I hear your side of the story and smack some sense into you.” 

Derek groans but does as she says and feels her warmth settling against his back, “Drunk me is an idiot. Who called you?” He asks as Kira runs a hand over his arm.

She lets out a very unladylike snort, “Sober you is a bigger idiot. No one had to call me, you let me know something happened when I didn’t hear from you,” she pauses but continues to run her hand over his arm, “although Peter’s text confirmed my suspicions.”

Derek grumbles about a nosy family under his breath before asking, “Just you?”

Kira hums an agreement, “His text was vague enough I didn’t feel the need to torture you with Erica, yet.” 

Derek isn’t sure that is a good thing or not. He doesn’t comment either way as Kira snuggles into his back and they lay in relatively comfortable silence. Derek closes his and lets the sense of pack soothe him into a light doze. After some time, Kira begins to hum, something that sounds suspiciously like Shinedown’s _Get up_. 

Derek opens his eyes, “You are not funny.” He tells the Kitsune in a dry voice.

“Does that mean you are ready to talk about it?” Kira asks him quietly.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Derek shrugs. It’s not that he doesn’t talk to Kira, but there are things he’s not shared with her and admitting them now … well, it makes him sound like a stupid jerk. Kira seems to understand his hesitation. She might not know his full history, but she knows enough.

“Let’s try an easier question,” there is humor in her voice, “have you at least apologized?”

Derek should be offended that she assumes he would need to apologize, but he isn’t. Instead, he rolls over to face his friend, “No,” he pulls at a loose thread, not meeting her eyes, “might have thrown my phone somewhere …” he lets his words die off as Kira holds out his phone.

“Oh, this thing?” She gives him a sweet smile that does nothing to lessen the steel in her gaze.

“You found it,” Derek replies, feeling lame.

Kira does little more than twitch her lips at him, “Okay Marshmallow, I’m going to make this easy,” Derek doesn’t like the glee in her voice, “either you work things out with Stiles,” her grin is terrifying, “or I’m telling Erica about your newest pity fort.” Derek mulls over her threat and finds he can live with that before he can tell the other Alpha, she adds on, “and your therapist.”

Derek feels like a southern damsel as he sucks in air and clasps a hand to his chest, “You wouldn’t!?” Kira just arches a brow. Derek curses and takes his phone back, “you play dirty, fox.” 

Kira only snuggles into his chest with a laugh, “you act like that this is something you didn’t already know.”

Choosing not to admit anything Derek sees he has a few missed texts and calls. Scrolling through them, he sees the last text Stiles send. He smiles at the randomness before opening the conversation to reply.

**Mr.Bookish [11:27]: the average person will spend six months of their life waiting for red lights to turn green. Although you might be up to a full year after the stop sign incident.**

Okay, not an apology but he’ll work that into his next text. 

“Good, now tell me about your date,” Kira demands with a giggle, “I need something to appease me since my own date ended early when Isaac got a call for a morning shift.”

“His boss still being a dick?” Derek questions with a frown. That kid was too sweet for his own good.

“Oh no mister, your story first.” She points him with a finger and a :snap: of electricity stings him.

“Hey! We agreed on no electricity in the bedroom,” Derek grumbles as he rubs at the small patch of sensitivity.

“You are so vanilla, does Stiles know? I bet he is a kinky little shit,” Kira wiggles her eyebrows at Derek. 

He groans, “Stop, you look like Peter.”

Kira gasp of outrage is cut off when Derek’s phone buzzes. He ignores her teasing smiles as he looks at the text and quickly sends one of his own. He looks back at Kira and sees the determination in her eyes. 

“Spill Hale,” she demands with a smirk.

Derek rolls his eyes but gets comfortable as he begins to tell her about his epic night. He just hopes she is too overcome with cuteness to zap him for his stupidity when he tells her how it ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, that should be about the end of the angsty Sterek drama. Now we can get to the good stuff. Down with the McCall/Argents.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major thanks to everyone who's read this over! And a big thank you to invalidusername for getting me to stop procrastinating. Hope you are ready to do it all over again.
> 
> To everyone else, Enjoy!

Someone is going to die. They are going to die a slow, painful death. Filled with no coffee and forks. Stiles grumbles to himself as he falls out of bed in a tangle of sheets. He lets out a groan as his phone smacks him in the back of the head, followed by his pillow. Whoever is pounding on his door at such a godawful hour should be arrested. He’s going to get his dad in on this heinous crime as soon as he can make the pounding stop. Muttering to himself, Stiles rolls around on the floor, doing a perfect imitation of a netted fish before he can stand up. 

He only trips once as he exits his bedroom and stumbles down the hall. Thankfully, there is a wall right next to him to keep him from a complete fall. Eventually, he’ll remember to not slide his feet across the floor, but not today. Reaching the entrance, he shouts out, “I’m coming,” and promptly stubs his toe. The banging briefly stops as he lets out a few colorful words in a hiss. 

Stiles throws open the door, “WHAT?!” he practically shouts into the smiling faces of Chris and Lydia, “No, just no.” He tells the grinning pair as he tries to shut the door on them.  
Too bad for him, they are both wide awake and slip through the door quickly. Stiles huffs out a sigh as he closes the door and slumps against it. The pair regard him with matching looks of annoyed amusement as he stares back at them.

“Told you we should have gotten here soon,” Lydia breaks the silence as she nudges Chris, “he’s not even dressed yet.” She arches one perfectly shaped brow before turning down the hallway, her heels clicking loudly.

“You were the one who had to stop for coffee on the way over,” Chris gives Stiles a shrug as they follow Lydia. 

“Coffee?” Stiles asks, hopefully. 

His hopes are entirely destroyed as Lydia lets out a little laugh. He is about to throw himself back in bed, ready to ignore why his friends have invaded his space when Lydia’s sharp words stop him. 

“You are late.” Her voice is filled with exasperation and just a hint of amusement, “I had the joy of waking up to your thousand and one texts demanding I help you get ready for a breakfast date,” her head pops out of his closet (his thankfully organized closet) and she levels the _look_ at him. “You owe me a glowing reference letter by the end of the day, a new office chair since I won’t be able to retrieve mine,” at this Chris lets out a snort of amusement which has Stiles arching a brow at him, “and _all_ the details from last night.” She abruptly returns to the closet.

“What?” Stiles’ brain is still off-line. Breakfast date? Reference letter? Details … oh … OH! Crap. It all comes back to him now. “ACK!” Stiles jumps up from the bed when he realizes the time, “I’m late! He’s going to think I stood him up. There’s no way I am going to make it in time! Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?!” Stiles frantically yells as he throws off his shirt. “There is no way I can make it across town in the next 20 minutes! Do you have any idea what is at stake here?! He apologized! We were going to talk,” Stiles races into his bathroom, sleep pants and boxers trailing after him from around his ankle. The Betas quickly advert their eyes as Stiles streaks past, “about feelings and shit! Feelings!”

Lydia drops the clothing on the bed as Chris takes a deep breath and enters the bathroom. He turns around quickly as Stiles continues his rant while brushing his teeth and trying to run a comb through his hair. There is only so much one needs to see of their friends, no matter how close you are to them, “Stiles, it is going to be okay,” Chris begins but is cut off by Stiles’ shriek of denial. 

Lydia’s very unladylike snort has Chris glaring at her before grabbing the Omega and shaking him a little, “Listen carefully to the words I am about to tell you,” Chris shoves a hand over Stiles’ mouth when the younger man keeps talking. He only grimaces a little at the feeling of toothpaste infused saliva against his hand, “Stop your nonsense.” He might not be an Alpha, but he grew up with them, married one, and (attempted to) raised one, so it showed in the command of his voice, “Derek is on his way to pick you up, I made arrangements for you both to have a long breakfast, and your meeting has been pushed back. You’re welcome.” 

“Mhommm dommmmm mmhMM?!” Stiles muffled reply is completely lost, but the question is clear in his expression.

Chris removes his hand from Stiles’ mouth, gagging a little he moves to the sink and washes his hands, “Let’s just say I have connections with the right pack.” He finishes up with the sink and slides out of the bathroom, “Also, you owe me a raise and a bonus for tonight!” Chris shouts at him as Stiles finally realizes his current state of dress and slams the door in the ex-hunter’s laughing face.

“You two are the worst!” Stiles retorts once his mouth is void of toothpaste. He turns on the shower, stops, listens to the muttered voices from his bedroom, opens the door a crack, and glance out. Lydia and Chris each stare back at him, “Why aren’t you at work?” Stiles blurts out.

The Betas share one of their looks before turning toward him. Lydia is the one to answer as Chris throws his hands up and mutters about making coffee.

She folds her arms and regards her nails as she leans against the bathroom door frame, “It seems that a certain Alpha is behind on rent,” She arches a brow at Stiles, “rent he didn’t even know he had to pay. Also, it seems that all his bills related to his office space are past-due.” A slightly evil smile tugs at her lips, “Until past-due bills are paid in full, Triple S is closed. Funny how I don’t remember an Alpha being in charge of our finances.” 

Stiles blows out a breath and tries not the dance around, “Well, that’s certainly interesting. Good thing we all got out when we did, now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date and an interview to get ready for,” Stiles is stopped from shutting the door by one high heeled foot.

Lydia regards him with mild confusion, “All joking aside how the hell did you pull that and the current issues that seem to have hit Triple S servers last night?” She flips her hair while putting her hands on her hips. “Pretty elaborate for someone who thought ‘indescribably myopic knothead’ hung the stars yesterday.”

Stiles rubs at the back of his neck, “Well, remember back, way back when it was just you, me, and a dream?” 

Lydia huffs out a breath, “Stop right there, we … you don’t have time for one of your rambling mess of words masquerading as an answer. You have 10 seconds.”

“Operation Fucked Alpha turned into Operation Scott Fucked Up yesterday. I had a little help last night, and then Derek threw in some epic shade. So, then I made a phone call to Finstock, and he was so on board I didn’t even get to finish before he was camped out at the building with a taser and some papers.” Stiles tells her in a rush.

Lydia blinks at him while slowly removing her foot from the door, “Well, that explains the look of manic glee on Finstock’s face.” She shakes her head with a laugh, “I am now delighted we gave him your coffee.” She twirls around and begins to head out the door, “You have about 15 minutes before Derek gets here, Chris and I will see you later today at Hale Bytes.”

“Why are we meeting there?! Wait, why are you going to be at the Hale’s? What time is my interview now?! How can you be so sure I’ll be getting this job?! Do I even want this job?” Stiles is close to panic when Lydia cups his face between her hands, giving his cheeks a squeeze, she tells him in a voice only those close to her have ever heard.

“Stiles, darling, everything is going to work out. Derek will make sure you get to your meeting. It is more a formality than anything, one that you will be very happy with, trust me. Now go fix your hair, wipe the toothpaste off your chin, and try not to embarrass me this afternoon.” She gives him a kiss on the nose and moves away.

Stiles feels oddly better as he shuts the door and finishes getting ready.

****

****

********************

[02:13]

Stiles: Lydia

Stiles: Lydia

Stiles: LYDIA! You awake?

Stiles: I’m going to say no.

Stiles: Okay, really going to say no.

Stiles: I need a wakeup call.

Stiles: 8 am

Stiles: no make it 7 I need to dress to impress my man

Stiles: that sounded so possessive

Stiles: I better talk to him first about us before I go announcing mutual ownership

Stiles: cause I’m his man too. Yup, he owns my heart.

Stiles: and all other major organs

Stiles: plus the minor ones

Stiles: Okay, back to 8 I need some rest to look my best

Stiles: hehehehehehehehehehehe rhyming

Stiles: Does ‘I will call you’ and ‘stop temping me’ translate into ‘I too want to do the nasty’?

Stiles: Okay 7 am final answer.

Stiles: Please bring coffee

Lydia [05:57]: What the hell were you doing up at 2am? Running to the office now to get my portfolio. Be at your place in an hour. You had better be up when I get there.

********************

“Ahh, my dear nephew, just the man I wanted to talk to.” Peter’s voice rings out in _real_ cheer as he barges in Derek’s office and sprawls in one of the chairs by the desk. 

It is way too early for him to be so chipper Derek decides as he tries to fix his tie. Then he remembers what he learned last night and levels a glare at Peter, “You went to Stiles’ last night.”

Peter’s smile brightens, “You were going to nest all night if Kira didn’t zap your misplaced guilt away.”

“You are plotting against the Argents,” Derek retorts with a growl as he rips off his tie.

Standing up from the chair, Peter walks around the desk and takes the tie, “You are changing the subject.” He laughs as he holds the tie away from Derek and begins to tug off his suit jacket.

Derek relinquishes his jacket without fuss, “You…no. You know what, I am in too much of a good mood and will be seeing Stiles again for breakfast in a few minutes.”

Peter about falls down at the omission, he quickly regains his composure “…I’m not sure how to respond now. Your face isn’t scrunched up in pain from all that sharing.”

Without looking up, Derek rolls up his shirt sleeves and mutters, “That’s because I’m in too much pain from this conversation.”

A bark of laughter rips from Peter before he can stop it, “Pup, that hurts. I haven’t even brought up the fact that Laura is inviting Stiles to pack night tomorrow.”

“Is there a reason you want to ruin this relationship?” A look of resigned terror fills Derek’s face.

Peter tosses the tie onto Derek’s desk with a shrug, “Yes. Without my help, you’d still be in bed mopping instead of about to go make heart eyes at your one true luv.” Peter clasps his hands together and flutters his eyelashes at Derek.

“Uh huh, pot meet kettle,” Derek tells him with a huff of annoyance as he moves around the office.

Peter only arches a brow in question.

Refraining from rolling his eyes at his uncle, Derek continues, “Funny, I could swear I saw Chris Argent leaving your office with stars in his eyes just moments ago. So early too.”

“I hear your sight is the first to go when you are sexually repressed,” Peter waves a hand in front of his eyes.

“That's funny, considering you should be blind by now.” Derek grumbles, “Don’t you have contracts to deal with and a house to blow down?” He closes the top to his computer and moves toward the door, “Some of us have relationships to work out.”

Peter rolls to his feet and gives Derek a genuine smile, which is completely ruined by the next words out of his mouth, “My my, making jokes. Now I might need to go looking for a pod.”

“I’m going to take Stiles out of town tomorrow night if you keep this up,” Derek sighs while trying to usher Peter out of his office, “in fact, we might not make it back from breakfast if you keep this up.”

“Like hell, you are doing any such thing,” Peter marches up to Derek with a huff, “He’s got you speaking in more than monosyllabic responses and grunts. For that alone, he’s getting initiated.” Peter pulls out his phone, “also go pick him up at this address. I did not realize someone would be cutting into his beauty sleep when I made his schedule for the day.” Peter gives Derek a wry look as Derek’s phone buzzes, “Now, go have fun. Be sure to use your words.”

“I hate you so much right now,” Derek rubs at his eyes and looks at the time, “Thanks for telling me in just enough time to be late picking him up.”

Peter snorts, “You act like I told you what time to be there, you have 15 minutes.”

“You are the worst,” Derek tells him as he sets out for the elevators.

“At least this way, you can run away easier,” Peter claps a hand on Derek’s shoulder before turning back down the hallway.

“Thank you, Peter, for everything,” Derek says, just loud enough for Peter to hear it. He doesn’t see the bright smile return to Peter’s face, but Derek chuckles as he hears Peter shout out a good morning greeting to everyone on the floor.

****

****

********************

[00:03]

Stiles: You owe me a god-damn good-night kiss.

Derek: If god damned it, why would you want it?

Stiles: It’s only damned because you held on to it too long.

Derek: That makes no sense. 

Stiles: Yes, it does! God is mad at you for making me wait. He damned your kiss. FOREVER. Now the only way to remove his damnation is by kissing me. Duh. 

Derek: I’m not sure if I should worry that all made sense. Either way I’m sorry. I was a jerk tonight. You didn’t deserve what I did to you. You’ll never know how grateful I am that you want to give this…me a second chance.

Stiles: Well that just took all my anger away. Where was this guy a few hours ago? Although I do see why your sisters call you a social reject. Do we need to start having dates with our phones out? 

Derek: No. Yes. Maybe. 

Stiles: LOL dude way to be indecisive. We’ll just keep them at the ready for breakfast.

Derek: Don’t call me, dude. Breakfast?

Stiles: Okay, Sourwolf. Oh yeah, creepy uncle said I needed to take you out to breakfast. Well, he said a lot but that’s really the only thing that mattered.

Derek: When did you talk to Peter?

Stiles: Oh…ummmmm

Stiles: Well. He and Laura showed up at my door tonight.

Derek: They did what?!

Stiles: Oh hey look at the time [yawn] yup [yawn] tired now [yawn] see you tomorrow at 9 at Markel’s [yawn]

Derek: Stiles

Derek: What happened? Are you okay? 

Derek: STILES! I will call you 

Stiles: Heyyyyy Derek, long time no talk. You finish that chapter yet?

Derek: How much coffee have you had?

Stiles: Enough

Derek: I’m sorry my family stuck their noses where they don’t belong

Stiles: Oooooh another apology. If I get 3, I win a prize, right?! 

Stiles: Don’t worry about it. They were worried about you. Good thing I am awesome and they know it.

Derek: You are singing that song now, aren’t you? 

Stiles: YOU’RE AWESOME AND I KNOW IT

Derek: >_<

Stiles: Aren’t you the cutest!

Stiles: Anywayz. Laura is a delight. Peter is now on my permanent amber alert. He is also a delight, at least that is what he told me to say. Breakfast?

Derek: Sure, that way, I can try this whole being a well-adjusted individual and try talking to you in person. After I disembowel Peter.

Stiles: No disemboweling uncle bad-touch. He did tell me to contact you and is going to help with getting back at Scott. I mean, douche-face whore.

Derek: I had an idea about that. You mentioned douche-face whore is a wolf. How big is his pack?

Stiles: hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah [sucks in air] hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa

Stiles: X_X 

Derek: I fail to see the humor

Stiles: DFW pretends he isn’t a wolf. He is dating a hunter for fucksake!

Derek: …Wait is DFW’s last name McCall?

Stiles: yup

Derek: fuck.

Stiles: you have such a way with words

Derek: that piss ant excuse of an alpha wolf ignored Laura’s offer of a truce

Stiles: fuck.

Stiles: FUCK! How is he still alive? Why am I still alive? Does this mean I don’t get my god-damn kiss?! FUCK you McPiss ant

Derek: He’s packless from what Laura told me

Stiles: Wait. Who what now? Crap alpha-wolf he may be but there are a few people in his pack

Derek: Can you feel your pack bond?

Stiles: I felt it break this afternoon. Kinda felt like an itch had finally been scratched

Derek: You were the last member. That itch was his dependency on you. 

Stiles: Huh, yeah, that checks out. Dumbass is going to get thrown in a training center

Derek: I’m just glad you are away from him. Laura isn’t bothered by another alpha wolf in our territory, but that doesn’t mean she’ll let him ignore wolf culture for much longer.

Stiles: He’s ignored it since he was bitten at 16. 

Derek: Oh boy. You are in for a world of renewed energy in the next few days. 

Stiles: Say what now? Huh to the repeat

Derek: I’ll explain more at breakfast. You should get some sleep.

Stiles: Wow. That is the worst ending to a conversation. Way to leave the episode on a: TO BE CONTINUED…

Stiles: Is that how your first book ends?! Don’t do that to Zan and Tevin!! Noooooooooo……they need their HEA damn it.

Derek: I am going to call ahead to Markel’s and ban coffee from our table. Good-night Stiles.

Stiles: Here, I thought we would transition into sexting and then avoid eye contact all morning.

Derek: Stop tempting me. 

Stiles: [le sigh] Fine. Goodnight, sweetest Sourwolf. 

Derek: Wait for it

Stiles: Saving up all my dirty thoughts for breakfast.

Derek: There it is. Sleep! Text me back and I’ll bring Peter to breakfast

[02:12]

********************

The birds are singing. The sky is a glorious shade of blue. No 5 am wakeup call by noisy neighbors. Allison is peacefully asleep next to him. It was going to be a good day. Scott takes a moment to lean over and sniff Allison. He coughs as his nose itches, and it feels like his lungs seize. He panics and tries to remember where he left his inhaler. Then as suddenly as the attack hit him, it is gone. 

“Scott,” Allison’s sleep-filled voice has him looking into her tired eyes, “why are you making so much noise this early in the morning? Didn’t your neighbors make enough an hour ago?

Scott frowns at her in confusion, “They weren’t up this morning.” 

“Not sure how you slept through their shouting,” Allison mumbles as she pulls the covers over her head, “You are getting a new place as soon as you finalize firing those useless Omegas.” Her words trail off as she begins to snore.

Scott rearranges the covers to make sure Allison is comfortable before clicking off his alarm clock. No need for it waking her up. He swings his legs over the side of the bed. Now that he is awake, he might as well get Allison something to eat before he must leave and fix the disaster that is Triple S. The Argent’s are right; the company is on its last leg. How did he ever let an Omega pretend to be in charge? They have no sense of duty or a head for business. Stiles was a good friend, but Scott needs to remind him of his place. It’s not healthy for an Omega to have too much responsibility. Their body isn’t built to handle anything other than childbirth, and a knot. 

Scott snorts at his own joke. That is what Stiles needs, a knot, and a baby. No wonder the Omega is acting out of character. He’s been single since he stupidly dumped Evan. He didn't even let the Alpha stay for his heat. That’s way too long for an Omega to go without a knot. Scott is going to talk to Kate about the problem. She’s mentioned she has some single Alpha friends. 

Scott finishes setting up the coffee and toaster. He’d make more for Allison, but she is picky and says she doesn’t want him to go to any trouble. She is such a sweetheart like that. Scott showers and makes himself presentable for the day. As he slips on his shoes, he pauses, the coffee maker must be broken. He can’t smell it. Wandering into the kitchen, he finds Allison perched on one of the stools, a steaming cup in her hands.

“You have a message from someone named Finstock. He wants you to bring your checkbook.” She tells him around a mouthful of toast, “Don’t tell me you blew another paycheck on parts for your bike?” Allison narrows her eyes at him, “How can I stay relaxed enough for the baby if you keep throwing money at unnecessary things? First that Omega, then all those Beta employees, and now your bike?” She pouts at him as she leans into his space, “Scott, don’t I come first?”

“Aww, come on, babe. I haven’t spent any of my paychecks. It all goes into our account, promise,” he drops a kiss to her forehead. “I don’t know why Finstock is messaging me, the building is paid up for the next 6 months,” Scott furrows his brows and chews his lip, “Stiles probably forgot to sign the check or something.”

“I am so glad you got rid of him yesterday,” Allison sits back down with a contented sigh, “and he took the princess and traitor with him.”

Scott doesn’t like how Allison refers to Lydia and Chris, but he doesn’t want to ruin her good mood. It’s not safe for the baby. Instead, he makes a noise of agreement and gets his travel mug out, “I’ll check in with him before I meet with Kate to finalize the employee list,” Scott smiles, “She is going to save us thousands with the new hierarchy.” 

Allison nods and leans over for Scott’s good-bye kiss, “I’ll be in later after my doctor’s appointment. Don’t let Kate have all the fun, I want to watch some of the Omegas’ walk of shame.”

Scott laughs at her joke, missing the darkness in Allison’s eyes. He also misses the way she wipes a hand down her cheek with a sneer. He is too preoccupied with getting his bag and helmet, and tossing a few ‘I love you’s over his shoulder. Scott heads for the office with a bounce to his step. 

 

The drive to the office is surprisingly beyond pleasant. It is as if Scott can breathe in the fresh air for the first time in months. Who knew getting rid of Omega baggage would have such a positive effect on his wellbeing? Cutting ties with Stiles is turning out to be the best thing he’s ever done. Why has he carried around such dead weight for so long? He should have listened to Allison ages ago. He coughs as his lung tightens. Shaking his head at wasting so much time, Scott inhales deeply as he parks his bike in the lot behind the building.

“Where’s my money,” a gruff voice calls out.

Scott is startled by the sudden appearance of the Alpha; he almost falls off his bike. He barely stops himself and pouts, how the heck did he not hear the brute of a man approach? His helmet tumbles to the ground as Scott catches his bike and dismounts with an utter lack of grace. He fumbles the headgear a few times before he manages to pick it up. All the while, Finstock laughs at him.

Scott sends him a dirty look, “Watch it there, Finstock, wouldn’t want people to know a _Beta_ is disrespecting an Alpha.” Scott tells him with a smile. There that’ll teach the bumbling fool.

Finstock stands up straight and levels a look at Scott, “Careful there _wolf_ , wouldn’t want word to get to the lead pack you are going rogue.” Finstock pops his gum and smirks at Scott, “shame being a double Alpha doesn’t equate to brains,” he laughs, “or personality.” Finstock doubles over with laughter, then he stands back up and glares at Scott, “My money.”

Scott just blinks at the man. That is not the way this conversation is supposed to go. Finstock should be cowering in fear over the thought of Scott outing him as an Alpha. Instead, he dares throw a half-hearted attempt at blackmail, one that makes no sense. Scott ignores the building manager as he grabs his bag and thermos. He doesn’t have time for this bull, Kate will be there in less than 10, and Scott needs to make sure all personal files are in his office. 

His brisk pace has him at the door in no time, Finstock is muttering behind him about stupidity or something like that. Scott can’t be bothered and yanks on the door, planning to slam it in Finstock’s face. Rather, the momentum of his hard pull has him flinging himself toward the door. The door doesn’t budge, and Scott slams into it. Coffee spills all over his front, and abundant, loud laughter comes from behind him.

“Money McStupid!” Finstock barks.

Scott whirls around with a snarl, “I don’t owe you a fucking cent! Triple S is paid until the end of the year!” Scott feels his teeth and claws itch as his last words are grunted out.

Finstock merely gives him an unimpressed look while holding out a folder, “Your feral is showing,” he uses the folder and gestures to Scott's face, “your company hasn’t been paying me shit. Here is all the backlog of bills I am due. I included water, sewage, trash, internet, electric, parking, annoyance, and being a dickhead to the already outstanding rent.”

Scott gapes, “Stiles said all that was taken care of!” When he gets his hands on the pathetic excuse for a human he is going to-

“Clueless wonder,” Finstock snaps his fingers in Scott’s face, “I am going to say this really, really slow and use teeny tiny words. Then maybe you can understand me.” Finstock snaps his gum and smiles, “You own Triple S. Triple S owes me. Money is due. You no pay. You no go in building. You no pay. I SUE YOUR ASS! Ya got one day! Kapeesh?” Finstock shoves the folder into Scott’s arms before stalking off, “And if I find you here again without paying me, I’m calling the Sheriff!” 

Scott is left standing by the locked door. Coffee drips from his shirt and pools around his feet. He pulls on the handle again but finds it just as immobile as before. In the span of a few minutes, his bright sunshine day got a storm cloud, one named Stiles. He drops the papers and his bag to the ground as he tugs out his phone. 

The Argents will know what to do with an unruly Omega, one who seems to have charmed the building manager. No worries though, Kate will have this all sorted out in no time. Scott smiles as he thinks about how helpful this will be to Stiles in the long run. As soon as the right people catch wind of the Omega’s wild antics, he’ll be scheduled for rehabilitation. Scott stops and frowns, oh his poor misguided friend! This is his cry for help! Scott can’t let this obviously desperate need go unanswered; of course, he’ll contact the right people and get Stiles under control. It’s what the Omega is crying out for after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scott is so clueless it is almost painful to write him, painful for him that is. 
> 
> Off to outline the next chapter and contemplate how much bodily harm a wolf can endure.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read the beginning before 17 November 2019 than there is a minor change to the plot. In the original, I had Stiles and Derek exchanging names in chapter one. It has been changed that they exchange names earlier in their online relationship. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone reading this and sticking with it through the long waits. A huge thank you to LorBSleepy for giving me the prompt and letting me run with it. Also, thank you invalidusername for trying to get me on a regular posting schedule. Thanks for putting up with my crazy!

Derek stares at the door in front of him. His hand in a fist, ready to knock. That is, he’ll knock as soon as he can get his arm to cooperate. He hears movement and Stiles’ murmurs from behind the door. Stiles sounds happy, and it brings a smile to Derek’s face. He wants to knock on the door and see Stiles again, but he also doesn’t want to knock on the door and see Stiles again. He fucked things up so badly last night, how can he be sure he won’t ruin their morning?

Then there is the deep-seated fear that Stiles will make a run for it after he realizes Derek is a bigger mess than previously shown. No one in their right mind would saddle themselves with damaged goods. Derek should have never gotten involved with Stiles; he is only going to cause more harm to the other man. 

Derek signs and unclenches his fist. He shuffles his feet and debates on how much pain he’d cause Stiles if he could just walk away now. 

He’ll have to leave the pack so Stiles will have protection, but it’ll be for the best.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, pulling him out of the downward spiral his thoughts had taken.

**Stiles: Doors open.**

**Derek: Thanks. Be there soon.**

He hears laughter, and his phone buzzes again before he can put it back in his pocket.

**Stiles: Uh-huh, as soon as you can stop overthinking things and open the door.**

Derek flushes and is very glad for the closed door.

**Derek: I don’t know what you are talking about.**

“Dude, I can feel your emo taking over from across the apartment,” Stiles is suddenly standing in the doorway, “whatever idiotic self-sacrificing thoughts are going through your head need to die. Now.” Stiles is completely serious as he stares down Derek. Although he is frowning, his eyes are warm with concern. Not sure what to say, Derek shoves his phone back his pocket and gives Stiles a small smile. He feels almost restless as he waits for Stiles’ response. Thankfully, Stiles quickly gives him a nod of approval, “Good,” Stiles’ smile is bright, and the smell of a sun-warmed sea breeze fills the air, “So, now that we’ve established no bad thoughts, would you like to come in while I find my shoes?”

Derek is following Stiles into the apartment before he realizes it. The apartment is spacious but warm. Stiles has decorated it in earth tones with light blue accents. It isn’t messy but feels lived in and smells fantastic. Derek looks around curiously as Stiles heads down a hallway. The Omega’s scent is strong, and yet it doesn’t overwhelm Derek. Instead, it relaxes him. He gets the feeling that the apartment smells so good because it is Stiles and has nothing to do with his dynamic. He knows other Alphas always wax on poetically about how amazing Omegas smell, but Derek never noticed a difference in the scents of each dynamic.

The aroma of coffee has Derek zeroing in on the kitchen before he can stop himself. The rich and dark blend is singing a siren’s song of temptation. He doesn’t want to overstep, but the pot is full and freshly made.

“Stop fretting and help yourself to some coffee!” Stiles shouts from down the hallway, “There should be some cream left in the fridge.” 

Derek pauses, that is the second time Stiles has inadvertently, albeit correctly, acknowledged his thoughts. He smiles at the implications, his wolf chanting one word: mate. Now that he’s getting settled in Stiles’ space, feeling much less depressed, he can feel the newly formed bond. It is barely a few hours old, but so strong already. With his new understanding, Derek feels the slight worry about Stiles’ reaction shift away. There is no doubt in his mind Stiles will embrace this and any other pack bond he will eventually form. 

At that moment, Derek decides they are going to stay here for breakfast. He wants Stiles to be in his own environment when so much new information is about to be given to him. Derek pours a cup of coffee and heads to the refrigerator for cream and to assess what supplies he has at hand for breakfast. 

“I just had a thought,” Derek calls out.

“That must have hurt,” Stiles shouts back with laughter in his voice.

“No more than your humor does,” Derek is quick to continue before they get completely sidetracked, “how about I cook us something here, and we can discuss everything without a crowd of people around?”

“That would save me from trying to find my shoes.” Stiles’ voice gets louder as he approaches the kitchen, “I’m not sure what I have to eat.” 

Derek is distracted by the contents of the fridge and misses Stiles’ entrance, “This is not acceptable,” he mutters to himself as Stiles peers over his shoulder. 

“Looks pretty standard to me,” Stiles states with confusion.

Derek jolts from the sudden voice in his ear. He mock-glares at Stiles as he shuts the fridge and goes to a cupboard. Stiles watches him with an impassive look as he pours a cup of coffee, “Whatcha doing there, Sourwolf?” 

“Stiles,” Derek begins with a huff, “there is no food in this apartment.” He folds his arms and arches an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles gaps at the wolf for all of 15 seconds, “Excuse you. I do too, have food.” He opens one of the cupboards and pulls out a box, “See? Pop-tarts. Part of a well-balanced breakfast,” Stiles grumbles as he moves toward the fridge. Pulling it open, he vehemently exclaims, “AHA! Olives and pickles!” He bends over before popping back out with another cry of discovery, “Look here! A carton of eggs and the cream!” Stiles huffs out a breath as he mirrors Derek’s stance.

Derek rolls his eyes and lets out a chuckle. He quickly stops as Stiles eyes flash in anger. Approaching the other man Derek opens the fridge back up and picks up one of the last two items Stiles found. Letting the door shut, he crowds the other man into the counter as he takes the egg carton, “A carton of _eggs_ ,” Derek mutters as he leans in closer. Stiles parts his lips as Derek seems to be leaning closer for that kiss when Derek opens the carton of eggs and thumps Stiles on the head with it.

“HEY!” Stiles struggles to get away from the obvious deranged werewolf who’s decided to start a food fight, “What the hell, dude?!”

Derek doesn’t move and keeps Stiles pinned against the counter as he begins to laugh. Stiles glares at him as he runs a hand through his slightly damp hair. He pulls his hand away to inspect the damage while trying to ignore the jerk-wolf keeping him captive. Stiles stares at his hand, his egg-free hand.

“Your face,” Derek gasps out as he tucks his face into Stiles’ neck. “Don’t call me dude, ” He suddenly attempts to growl as he continues to laugh as Stiles’ scent takes on hints of amusement. He’s not sure which is better, stunning Stiles into silence or the younger man’s very enticing scent. Derek subconsciously rubs his nose along Stiles’ throat, scent-marking him.

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice is soft and a little rough.

Derek hums a reply, still engrossed in his current mission of scent mingling.

Stiles hands find their way around Derek’s neck, and he swallows, “Derek,” he says again while tugging Derek’s hair. Reluctantly Derek shifts away so he can meet Stiles’ eyes, “as much as I would love to see the natural progression of your courting,” Derek is mesmerized as Stiles licks his lips. “I am one second away from climbing you like a tree.” 

Derek forms his eyebrows in the shape of a question, completely confused as to why that is a bad thing. 

Stiles huffs out a growl any wolf would be proud of, “I am also super hungry and annoyed at you, and it would taint all future sexual endeavors if we began our mutually exclusive physical relationship with hate sex.”

Derek takes a step back and blinks at Stiles. Stiles looks back at him with a raised brow and an expression that holds more amusement than irritation. They stare at each other for a long, awkward moment, then Derek decides to throw caution to the wind and embrace the awkward, “That makes perfect sense,” he almost bites his tongue at the pure disbelief on Stiles’ face. Derek continues as he crosses his arms and leans against the counter next to Stiles, “after all, should I also be more than annoyed with you for it to be true hate sex?”

Stiles sputters at the wolf, “Annoyed with me?! What the hell do you have to be annoyed about, huh?! I’m the one who was violently attacked!” Stiles throws his hands out and almost clips Derek’s head.

Derek grabs a wrist and pulls a very willing Stiles closer, “You are a horrible fraud as a functional adult. It is criminal to have such a nicely outfitted kitchen and only use it for coffee.” Derek chuckles as Stiles’ stomach makes it discontent known. “How can you expect me to feed you with nothing but toaster pastries and powdered creamer?” Derek leans back into Stiles’ space, seemingly unable to move too far away from the Omega.

Stiles rolls his eyes as he hip-checks Derek, “Coffee is a vital food group, and besides, I also use the microwave and toaster.”

“Stop. Just stop, it hurts too much to listen to this travesty,” Derek’s grin takes the sting out of his words. He sighs as he tosses the empty carton on the counter before opening a cupboard next to the fridge, “How are you the same man who rants and raves about your father’s poor diet and yet considers a toaster pastry a fruit?” Derek mutters as he pulls out a box of pancake mix. 

“Where in Mab’s grey gardens did you find that?” Stiles eyes the box suspiciously.

Derek gapes at him, “This is only proving my point. We are going shopping later today before dinner to get fresh produce and protein.” 

“Woah there, Gordan Ramsey,” Stiles points Derek in the direction of his mixing bowls, “First. _Pop-tarts_ are not just a fruit. They are also a grain and have calcium,” Stiles sticks his tongue out when Derek snorts, “Second, Jerk-wolf, my ability to follow a recipe is amazing, and my dad gets wonderful home-cooked meals at least once a week, and recently they’ve been more flavorful. Who knew that salt and pepper were so important?” Stiles opens the drawer where he keeps the whisk and hands it over to Derek, “Third. If we are going food shopping, I insist we pick up some apples so I can woo you with my award-winning, secret recipe applesauce.” Stiles nods his head as if the matter is settled.

“Is that all?” Derek asks bemused.

Stiles grabs a pan from the hanging wrack and pauses as if he is seriously thinking it over, “You also owe me dessert for the traumatic experience you made me endure in my kitchen.” 

“The carton was empty, you were fine,” Derek rolls his eyes as he begins to stir water into the mix. “Besides, I could have knocked you over the head with the empty half ‘n half container.”

Stiles groans, “That wasn’t the traumatic experience,” he faces Derek as the were stops his mixing.

“Oh? Then what was?” Derek asks in a soft voice.  
Stiles licks his lips and shifts ever so slightly closer, “The part where you didn’t kiss me. Again.”

****

****

************************

**:: Ring Ring::**

**:: Click::**

****

****

**“Hello?”**

**“We have a problem?”**

**“Is it the one we discussed?”**

**“You were right.”**

**“I’m right about a lot of things.”**

**“His control is slipping.”**

**“We knew it wouldn’t be much longer.”**

**“That’s not the problem.”**

**“Then what is?”**

**“He made a phone call. Rehabilitation center was mentioned.”**

**“Fucking Argents. He still there?”**

**“Yeah, and the sadist just showed up.”**

**“Do you have the documents?”**

**“Oh yeah.” ******

********

****

**“Perfect. On my way.”**

**::Click::**

****

****

*************************

The office is oddly quiet without Derek around. For someone of so few words, his presence is always a balm to her wolf. Although she feels a mixture of pride and protectiveness as he begins to work through his history, Laura is also relieved he is finally meeting people outside the pack. Before learning about Stiles, she was starting to agree with Peter that they would need to take him along to the West Coast Wolf Reunion and sign him up for their singles night. He’d hate it, hate them, and be the only wolf anyone would want to meet. Granted, they would never actually do that to Derek, but a few conversations where he could hear them would get the job done. 

After all, that is how she and Kira got him to sign up for Atypical Dynamics in the first place. Best. Big Sister Move. Of The Year. Mentally patting herself on the back, she checks her schedule and sends a quick text to Kira about the few additions to pack night. In addition to Kira introducing her boyfriend for induction, Stiles’ pack liaison, Lydia, has agreed for all their members currently in the country to be in attendance. It was a bit of a pleasant shock to learn that the same Omega Danny is courting is a member of Stiles’ pack. Sadly, he will be attending via a computer screen until he is back stateside.

Her wolf dances in excitement over the thought of having so many new members, people she knows will aid her just as much as she protects them. She doesn’t want to join in the celebration just yet, trying to maintain her cool in case Stiles’ pack isn’t interested. Talking to Lydia all morning after meeting Stiles last night, it does not seem likely they will be declining the induction offer, although it doesn’t hurt to be cautious just in case. The Stilinski (nèe McCall) pack is a reliable and loyal group; any pack would be lucky to have them. Laura shakes her head over the abuse the pack had suffered due to their ex-Alpha. 

What’s worse is the abuse mostly went unreported because there is only one other wolf, and he is also a bitten wolf. To think they all could have ended up sick or worse if they’d stayed with that idiot. She is grateful to Chris for voicing his concerns and theories about his pack. She’d been ready to condemn him for not stepping up sooner but recognized him as an unofficial member of the McCall Pack. The mutual disdain between the Beta and McCall prevented anything more. Then, once Chris realized what was happening to his pack members, he was quick to seek her out. Now, she is more than willing to have the black sheep of the Argent family become an official member of her pack. She has one final thing that needs to be taken care of to make sure her pack is secure, united, and above all, void of any negativity.

Laura takes a deep breath before clicking on the telephone icon to activate the video chat. She tugs at her blouse as she waits to see if her call will be answered. She’s not sure if she is hoping it isn’t, or if she wants to get it over with now. The computer makes a noise as the call is connected, and Laura puts on her best Alpha face.

“Laura, darling, it is so good to see you!” Talia Hale’s voice is pure honey, “you are looking well.”

Not showing any of the ire or unease her mother causes her, Laura gets right to the point, “I am ready to take on full status as Hale territory Alpha.” 

Talia’s face darkens as she blinks at her daughter, “Your pack is not strong enough to support such a burden. My dear, your uncle and brother alone are probably draining you next to dry, simply look at the bags under your eyes.”

Laura closes her eyes for a count of five, “You are contradicting yourself, mother, either I look well, or I’m about to die. Which is it?” Laura states in an emotionless tone. She’s played this game with her mother too many times, and knows to keep her reactions hidden, “Not only that, but those are my two strongest bonds. Without Derek and Peter, our territory would be defenseless.” 

“Omegas, adding strength to a pack? I think not,” Talia’s voice is mocking, “you’ve been listening to your uncle’s insanity again.” Talia heaves out a sigh and shakes her head with an air of pity, “When are you going to cut those leeches off and come join me?” 

“I refuse to abandon my pack and our ancestral lands,” Laura bites out, fighting to keep her wolf at bay, “You may have decided, incorrectly, to view our history as unacceptable but I still value it.” Laura takes a breath in through her nose and centers herself, “This was a courtesy call, nothing more. I will be cutting bonds with you to protect my pack. We are strong enough with one Hale Alpha wolf, and by the next full moon, your last bond to a Hale will dissolve.”

Laura stares at her mother as Talia sneers, “One Alpha wolf, even a Hale, is not enough to keep the balance. You will be crawling back to me within a day. I’ve felt the weakness of your pack for years.”

“You’ve felt your own weakness, mother,” Laura gives her mother a smile that is all fang. “Do you have even one packmate to keep you from going Omega?”

Talia’s growl is all the answer she needs. Laura feels herself relax, “Oh, how ironic, the woman who refuses to see her son as an Alpha is going to be an Omega wolf because of that misstep.”

“Watch your mouth, I’m still your mother,” Talia practically snarls.

“You gave up that right when you left Derek in the hands a hunter, even after learning of his true dynamic.” Laura’s eyes glow red, letting out just a bit of the smug satisfaction her wolf is feeling, “I’m almost sorry I won’t get to see you turn Omega wolf.”

Before Talia can say anything, Laura cuts the call. She breathes out a sigh as she leans back in her chair. 

“You did good, Alpha,” Peter’s voice is soft and filled with respect and pride.

Laura feels something in her wolf settle fully with Peter’s words. Her uncle has never been stingy with his praise, but it has always been well-earned. Having his approval and support lets her know she is making the right decision for herself and her pack.

****

****

************************

****

**The Beginning: Almost One Year Ago**

****

**OM.uh.no.: All I’m saying is who cares if we get heat leave? Males still don’t get maternity leave.**

**IsThisThingOn: I see your discontent and raise you: ONLY OMEGA FEMALES get maternity leave and it’s a week tops. I want to stay home with my daughter since my wife has a better job but we were both denied due to being betas.**

**Justsomerandomalpha: try being an Alpha/Alpha pair without any desire to have kids. My wife just lost her internship when they found out she was married to another alpha.**

**OM.uh.no.: not seeing how they found out you didn’t want kids**

**Justsomerandomalpha: it was one of the hiring questions**

**IsThisThingOn: isn’t that illegal?**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: nope. Companies can ask whatever they want under the true dynamic laws. It's one of the reasons I run my own. No one needs to know I’m an omega who is sterile**

**LovinABO: do you offer heat and maternity/paternity leave too? And if so are you hiring? :}}}**

**OM.uh.no.: oh man mischief, I’m so sorry for your lost. That must be hard**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: @OM.uh.no. what loss? @LovinABO I am hiring for the payroll department**

**OM.uh.no: your inability to have kids. that must have been so painful when you found out**

**LovinABO: updating my resume!**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: naw, no worries. It was my choice**

**OM.uh.no: the fuck? Your choice?**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: uh yeah. I can’t function without my adhd meds and they have the side effect of sterility in omega males with long term use. No big loss for me since the idea of childbirth gives me nightmares. Hello adoption**

**IsThisThingOn: that’s so awesome Mischief! There are so many omega and beta children that need homes**

**Justsomerandomalpha: and it's so refreshing to hear someone taking their health into account first.**

**OM.uh.no: are you even listening to yourselves?! He’s fuckin barren and trying to make himself feel better about being an old unused omega. Mischief you need to get a better doctor before your issue becomes permanent**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: okay woah OM. That is uncalled for, first off I am happy, healthy, and uninterested in childbirth. Secondly, way to perpetuate a stereotype**

**OM.uh.no: Fucking barren bitch thinks he knows whats best for him. You’re a fucking omega, learn your place.**

****

**[Mischief_Unmanaged left the chat]**

**Mr.Bookish: I think that is quite enough. OM you are banned from this forum. Take your outdated and boorish ideals with you to hell.**

**[OM.uh.no. left the chat]**

**LovinABO: Bookish! welcome back! We were worried you’d forgotten all about us**

**Justsomerandomalpha: gods we missed you dealing with the idiots!**

**IsThisThingOn: man you didn’t even get to properly meet mischief**

********************

__

_**[Mr.Bookish sent you a private message]**_

**_OM was an idiot I should have reported sooner. You should know that it is really admirable what you admitted to in the chat. I wish I was brave enough to tell people I’m sterile by choice. Although, even when I do, they can’t believe an Alpha would be so stupid. Wow, didn’t mean to overshare, just wanted you to know you aren’t alone. I hope one narrow-minded jerk of a pig didn’t ruin your impressions of the rest of us.  
Mr.Bookish_**

 ************************

**[Mischief_Unmanaged sent you a private chat request]**

**[Mr.Bookish accepts request]**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: wow, you have no idea how much your message cheered me up**

**Mr.Bookish: that’s great to hear. Still wish I had stepped in sooner**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: can’t change the past so we shouldn’t dwell in it. Besides thanks to that bigot, I now have a new friend**

**Mr.Bookish: harping on the past is my specialty. A new friend? You sure the relationship is at that point of declaration?**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: dude, we are the barren brothers now. If that doesn’t shout friendship I don’t know what does (no worries I won’t actually tell anyone what you told me). Also you called it a relationship, pretty sure we are progressing from internet strangers to life-long partners**

**Mr.Bookish: don’t call me dude. A life-long partner? I get the feeling I missed the fine print somewhere**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: should have read the private message agreement, not-dude.**

**Mr.Bookish: the one time I skip the 1000+ pages and I end up with a life-long partner. That’ll teach me to live dangerously**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: un-dude, if that is you living dangerously we need to have a talk about the choices you are making**

**Mr.Bookish: obviously, since I’m actually downloading the app to keep talking to you**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: ican’tbelieveyourenotadude, you read my mind. Wanna walk me home?**

**Mr.Bookish: are you going to stop calling me dude?**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: notadude, I have no idea what you are talking about.**

**Mr.Bookish: rriiiiiiigggghhht. You are a terrible life-partner.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: this is going to be epic**

****

************************

**Mischief_Unmanaged: you are not going to believe what I found today**

**Mr.Bookish: your ability to wait?**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: ha ha hardy ha. Why are we friends?!**

**Mr.Bookish: We’ve made a bloodless blood pact to always annoy each other so others won’t feel inferior.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: dude, you get me so hard**

**Mr.Bookish: how is it you turn everything you type into filth? And don’t call me dude.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: says the man who was trying to find another way to say ‘licked his asshole’. You know my dirty mind is going to help you sell millions!**

**Mr.Bookish: I regret all my life decisions.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: aww you’re my favorite too dude!**

**Mr.Bookish: [death glare level 9] don’t call me dude**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: if you would just tell me your name we wouldn’t have this problem, dude**

**Mr.Bookish: and I refuse to give you my name until you agree to give me yours. Your REAL name.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: you don’t want the burden of knowing that atrocity**

**Mr.Bookish: oh gods, did your dad name you Sue.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: I am not going to dignify that with a response, dude what’s your name?!**

**Mr.Bookish: nope, I am not giving you nothin until you give me yours**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: ugggggggggggh! Knew I should have asked first. Don’t know why you want it so bad. It’s long, foreign, and unpronounceable**

**Mr.Bookish: I’ll give you my middle name.**

**Mischief_Unmanaged: not sure that is worth the exchange**

**Mr.Bookish: only one way for you to find out**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


End file.
